Throw Caution to the Wind
by FatherOnceSpokeOfAnAngel
Summary: Ireland 1185. In one night Serlaith O Cuinn's life changes. Taken by the Franj,she is a slave to a certain Templar knight. Changes occur and she is bound to Acre, and escapes. She delves into the world of Assassin's. She unveils a deeper world, which forces her to question her heart, her loyalty, and what it is like to be a woman during the Crusade.Will be rated M.Mention/MildSlash
1. Love and Death

**Warning:** There will be strong language, sexual situations, and eventually, _explicit_ sexual content.

**Well, hallo there!**

**This is my first AC fic.**

**I love the games and hope when I finish this story, i will have done the characters justice.**

**For this first chapter it is the dreaded info chapter. **

**I am so sorry if I bore you but please read, and bare with for next chapter will be more exciting. We get to meet a certain someone...;)**

**Now, the start is all Ireland and I know you'll want to go but please don't! **

**You will probably think, 'How the heck has Ireland got to do with AC!?'**

**Well, it is the character, you see. **

**And all will make more sense next chapter, and I will put that one up earlier than I am goign to do with the rest so you don't all get too annoyed with this story and will review/fave/follow it!**

**I am sorry for any mistakes as I have no beta, and I am sorry for any historical inaccuracies.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

**and just incase you get confused with names...**

**And name pronounciations. I know. I'm mean. I chose the most hard to pronounce names. But what can I say? They're Irish names.**

**Serlaith (Ser-la)**

**Dirmuid (Deer-mid)**

**Caiolfhionn (Kay-lin or Kee-lan)**

**Cathal (Ca-hal)**

**O'Cuinn (O Quinn)**

**O Cathain (O Cahan)**

**Disclaimer:** Do not own anything AC related. Belongs to Ubisoft. All I own are my OC's.

**Edit:**Re-read this and noticed another billion mistakes, so hopefully they are fixed now :)

* * *

Serlaith O' Cuinn was indeed no noble. Her family were humble despite working as servants, grooms, advisers or friends to the noble leaders of the Irish Clan Drugain, the O' Cathain's. She had worked for the clan as long as she could remember.

Ever since she was a child, she remembered playing in the lush green gardens with the nobles children- Dirmuid (three years her senior), Cathal (one year her senior) and Caiolfhionn (one year her junior). It was not so uncommon on their land that the nobles associated with those lower than them, however, the closeness between Serlaith's family and the O' Cathain's was a rarity. The association between the two families ran back through history, as far back since the land had been claimed. Serlaith would play with the children, the two sons often scheming to do mean but none-the-less harmless jokes on them, as they would sit playing with their fabric dolls, braiding each other's hair or, as they grew, speak of the suitors amongst the many growing boys in their clan.

As the years progressed, Serlaith and Caiolfhionn grew very closer, having a relationship unlike that to sisters. The two brothers, however, grew in body but apparently, not in mind. They still played their mean little jokes on the two girls, but like their bodies had matured, so had their jokes. The two often dared each other to steal kisses from Serlaith, and play with their sister's interests in the suitors. The two families watched their kin grow and flourish, now at the age to be married off.

Serlaith had matured and now at the ready-age of seventeen to become a wife. Her parents wanted to ensure only the best for their only child, and she had to sit through many arrangements with other families. Serlaith, however, had grown weary for no matter how handsome, strong, wealthy or supportive the suitors she was presented with were, her eyes and her heart (so she believed) were set on someone else.

Nobleman Dirmuid O' Cathain.

Even though they had known each other all through their childhood into adulthood, it was certainly unheard of for a nobleman like Dirmuid to marry a servant like Serlaith, despite their relationship and their families' relationship. But she was convinced Dirmuid and she should be together, and he did not disagree with her. They knew that they wanted to be married since their hunting trip during the autumn of 1184.

And if they could not be together (she had heard whispers of him marrying nobility from another clan as a form to be allies) she doubted her suitor would be pleased with her...'state'.

* * *

_'You better be quiet this time,' Serlaith huffed as she had her bow and arrow poised low, tempted to point it toward Dirmuid._

_'Hey, don't be mean! I tripped!' Dirmuid said with fake innocence, a smirk upon his handsome face._

_Serlaith scoffed and glared back at him, 'I had to live with you all my life. Trust me, you do not know the meaning of mean.'_

_'I'm sure we weren't that b-'_

_Serlaith had held up her had, silencing the young noble. He knew that she had spotted something that they could eat. It wasn't that they needed the food, it was more Serlaith convincing him to hunt for food for the peasants of his land. He watched her as he spotted her prey- a large buck. He remained deadly quiet, for it had been a while since they had caught something so large, and the people would surely be grateful._

_Serlaith artfully raised her bow. Her left arm straight, bow to the side of her face, Dirmuid watched as concentration took over. He watched the way she would close one eye, hiding one swirling green orb he so loved to look into, the way her delicate button nose scrunched up in concentration, and the way her eyebrows furrowed together, judging her aim. Not so long after he had finished assessing her face, did he hear the quiet whizz of the arrow through the air and watch it pierce the head of the buck._

_Serlaith stood for a minute staring, then as the buck froze in shock and fell to the ground, Serlaith jumped up and down and turned to Dirmuid squealing, ' Did you see, Middie!? Did you see that!? I got him right in the head!' The old pet name slipping from her rosy lips that she teased him with from childhood._

_Dirmuid grinned in response and quickly closed the distance and enveloped her in a hug, lifting her off the ground,' Well done! I taught you well, my dear apprentice!' He teased and she rolled her eyes in response as he set her down, before skilfully navigating through the thick foliage to the fallen buck._

_'Come with the ropes so we can strap him up to take him back,' Serlaith said, pulling out the arrow from its head. She was quiet for a moment, and began slowly stroking the buck's fur, 'Maybe I shouldn't have killed him. He's so beautiful,' She said quietly, her feelings changing suddenly- though this was normal for her.  
_

_Dirmuid knew all too well the guilt Serlaith felt after killing an animal. Her heart was much too big, and she loved animals nearly beyond such things as her family, and he knew someday her large heart would result in hurting her._

_'It wasn't without reason,' Dirmuid said, kneeling beside her, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. She remained quiet for a few more moments then nodded._

_'I know that. I just...He will not go to waste. I'm sure we could make use of his hide, and the antlers could form some new tools...?' she trailed off looking to Dirmuid, who nodded._

_'Now, help me roll him so I can strap him up.'_

_After they had 'strapped up' the buck, Dirmuid began to haul the buck through the foliage, but it was resulting in him stumbling since he had never pulled something so heavy as a buck that size before._

_'Here, I'll help,' Serlaith spoke as she took a rope from him to pull, after noticing he was struggling. However, Dirmuid's ego held him back from letting her help._

_'No, it's fine I can do it,' he said, attempting to take back the rope, but only received a slap on the hand from Serlaith. Now, if that had been any other woman, he would've been angered that woman of that class had done such a thing to him. But this was Serlaith. His beautiful Serlaith. Fiery, auburn hair fell in wavy locks to her mid-back, but today was braided for hunting. A few strands escaped the braid as always, framing her delicate face. Her eyes a unique bright green. His eyes fell onto her nose next-a small, cute button nose. There was a small dash of freckles that fanned across her nose, but stopped as it reached her rouged cheeks. His gaze travelled on to the her lips- a plump bottom lip with a bow-shaped, slightly-thinner top lip. Dirmuid was going to stop looking, he was...But his eyes paid no heed to his thoughts as they fell to her breasts. She was wearing Cathal's shirt and breeches (he was smaller than Dirmuid), but which were tailored to fit her more feminine frame. Cathal's shirt was still slightly big, so the collar fell low enough that not much imagination was needed. She had slimmed down, losing most of her childish fat, and had filled out in all the right places._

_Serlaith knew that Dirmuid was staring at her, no matter how discreet he was trying to be. When his eyes, however, fell lower than needed, she decide to interrupt him._

_'My eyes are up here, hm?' Serlaith said, her finger pointing to her eyes._

_Dirmuid realized she had caught him and he became flustered, stammering an excuse, and in his fluster, managed to trip and fall, pulling Serlaith with him since she was holding the other rope. She landed haphazardly across him, and the roles were reversed. She was now stammering and he was smirking at her._

_'Now, now I thought you liked a bit of foreplay?' Dirmuid teased, delighting in her blushing furiously- anymore it would be the colour of her hair- contrasting against her smooth, ivory complexion._

_'Dirmuid!' She exclaimed, swatting his shoulder and tried to get up, but one hand was gripping her wrist, and the other had somehow found its way around her waist. Serlaith, shocked, looked back at him. He was staring at her, locking their gazes, and his smirk had disappeared. He flipped them over so he was atop Serlaith, and she squealed at the quick move._

_'W-what are you d-doing?' She stammered, not knowing where to look as his gaze penetrated her._

_'I wish...I wish I wasn't noble,' Dirmuid began, suddenly changing from joking and teasing, to being completely serious and soft, not taking heed of her question, ' I wish I wasn't the heir to my father's land. I wish I was like you. A humble and honest girl, like her family, who isn't afraid to work hard, to provide for her family.'_

_A look of confusion swept across Serlaith's face but she remained quiet, listening to Dirmuid's words._

_'And do you know why?' Dirmuid questioned, but continued before she could answer, 'So I could...I...I could be with you, without any problems.'_

_Serlaith's eyes widened at his confession, her lips forming a small 'o'._

_'W-what do you mean?' She whispered, shifting under his large form above her._

_'You're my best friend, Serlaith. I really care for you. I mean really care for you. Maybe even...love you. And not like a friend. You're special to me. Surprisingly, you put up with Cathal and I more than my sister, you even agreed to fight with wooden swords with me when we were younger, progressing into actual sparring. You aren't afraid to be rough and get dirty with me when I ask you to do things. You go hunting with me. You're heart...It's so big. Heck, you even treat the animals like a real person,' Serlaith's cheeks tinged a slighter red at this, and got a smile from Dirmuid as he continued, 'And you are so beautiful. In every way...and I wish for you to be my wife,' he finished a lot quieter._

_Serlaith could only stare at him, mouth agape._

_'B-but...Y-ou are n-noble...I'm a...s-servant. Our parents! W-what would they t-think!? You're father would...would disown you!'_

_'I do not care for the land, to be a leader. My brother can do that! I know he is envious of me and wishes he would inherit instead. We can pack up and go, join another distant clan, get married, settle down...Have children even...' he trailed off. His quick-mouthed (only around him), stubborn and confident Serlaith was gone. He worried as she remained quiet for quite some time, her eyes looking away from him._

_Finally, she lifted her gaze to his._

_'Y-yes,' she croaked out._

_'Yes?' Dirmuid asked in disbelief._

_'Yes.'_

_They stared at each other before Dirmuid smashed his lips against hers. They had shared kisses in the past, when they were beginning to notice their feelings, and this kiss was not delicate and chaste like the others. No. It was feverent, desperate, like Dirmuid was afraid of losing her, at this risky...engagement?_

_Their kiss deepened, and his tongue slipped out, tracing her lips. Serlaith opened her mouth more for him, their tongues melding together. Her hands fisted in his short, raven locks, as one of his hands supported him, the other placed on her waist. His hand travelled further up her body, resting just below her breasts. She broke away looking at him. She felt a warmth gather between her thighs, and a feeling in her stomach._

_Dirmuid's hand moved up over her chest, to the button on her shirt. He popped the first one then looked at her, as if asking for confirmation. Serlaith gave a small nod, slightly ignorant to what he was going to do. She was not stupid, but knew this was what two people did to consumate their love after getting married. And they were not married...yet. A part of Serlaith screamed at her not to do this. That it was sinful and God would punish her, but it was miniscule to the other part, screaming yes._

_Dirmuid gave her a soft smile and pulled off the shirt, revealing her to him. She blushed and tried to cover herself, but he pinned her hands above her head with one hand. They continued to slowly undress, placing kisses on each other's face, neck and lips._

_When the chill outside had given her goosebumps across her exposed flesh (and Dirmuid's) he kissed her again._

_'This will hurt,' he whispered, before he took her, outside, primal. He was distraught over the pain that came across her face, so sorry that he had hurt her, but knowing it had to be done. _

_But Serlaith was soon overtaken by the pleasure, once the pain subsided._

_When they were both sated, Serlaith experiencing a feeling of pure bliss that nothing could compare to, they both got dressed and finally managed to haul the buck out of the forest and attach it to the back of Dirmuid's horse before they set off back home._

* * *

Serlaith was reliving the memory as it was the night before their escape. She had finally finished meeting with a suitor (and if she were to stay, she was convinced that he would be her husband-to-be). It was just the beginning of spring of the year 1185, and Dirmuid had set everything up with another clan, his comrade residing there. They had the horses ready, clothes and food packed, and notes written explaining what had happened and that they were sorry, but giving no indication as to where they were headed.

After she ate her supper with her family, she went to find Dirmuid about the manor's grounds. She found him exactly where she had thought- at the bottom of the garden, where there was a stone wall that was their 'fort' as children.

'What are you thinking about?' Serlaith now stood beside Dirmuid, who was looking off across the fields and homes of his people.

'How our leaving will affect everyone,' he replied quietly.

She reached out and placed her hand on his arm, 'If you are positive about leaving, then the people will be safe with your father, and then when your brother succeeds him. And our families...They will accept it with time.'

Dirmuid faced her now, a sad smile on his face, 'I suppose you're right. But I am afraid to leave as the Franj are still invading. What if they hit here? Will everyone blame me for not being there? They are ruthless, exceptional fighters and are even taking men, women and children alike back to their home with them...'

'Don't you worry your pretty head about it. They are further south near the Dál Coirpri Cliach clan.'

'I suppose.'

'You know I'm always right.'

'You're not always right. Just never wrong,' he teased back, his arms wrapping around her waist, his head bending down to brush his lips across her. Serlaith pulled away gently.

'They may see us. Once we leave tomorrow, I promise you all the kisses you want. _Anywhere,' _she emphasised, raising an eyebrow and watching a grin spread across his face at her hidden message.

'Well then, off to bed with you, woman! We need all the sleep we can get.'

Serlaith smiled and he walked her back to her bedchamber, everyone else either asleep or busy. And it wasn't as if it was odd of Dirmuid to walk her back-he had done so before.

Before she entered her room, she paused and turned to Dirmuid, placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

'I realize I have never told you before but...I-I love you, Dirmuid,' she said seriously, though her face was soft.

'I love you, too.'

* * *

_Serlaith screamed, and she could feel her throat raw and croaking from how much she was screaming._

_ Heat enveloped her, the fire dancing in her room. She screamed again and tried to run, but she couldn't move her legs. She was trapped._

_The fire inched it's way toward her, roaring and she could hear other screams for help. She cowered in the corner of the room, the heat feeling like_ _it was melting her._

Just as the fire was about to burn her, she woke up. There was no fire in her room. It was a nightmare.

But there weremdefinitely screams, and there was fire visible from outside her window.

She gasped and threw on breeches, leaving her night dress on top, and pulled on her boots. She ran across her room, opening the door and finding her mother rushing down the corridor, servants as well. Everyone was wailing, the sounds of bloodcurling screams. Screams of death.

Serlaith followed her mother, grasping her arm, 'Ma! What is happening!?'

'The F-Franj...they've attacked! Come now child. we must help outfit the men!' Her mother finished with confidence, though her tear-stained face suggested otherwise. She nodded, following her mother...then she stopped.

Dirmuid.

'You go on, mother! I need to find, Caiolfhionn!' _and Cathal. But really Dirmuid_, she thought.

Her mother was hesitant then nodded,'Check the armoury!' her mother called. Serlaith guessed she was trying to find her father.

Serlaith found herself making her way to the armoury. If the men were fighting, she expected that was where Dirmuid would be (and Cathal and Caiolfhionn). She was correct. Caiolfhionn was helping her brothers get ready as she spotted Serlaith.

'Ser! Come here!' She waved frantically. Serlaith pushed her way through the chaos, and she immediately helped Dirmuid.

'I'm so sorry! I was so wrong, please forgive me!' Serlaith poured out, realizing tears were flowing freely, as there was the prospect he may not come back.

Dirmuid shushed her, taking her face between his hands. He could see how vulnerable and frightened she was.

'It is not your fault. At least I won't be leaving my family when they need me. _We will win. And then I can be with you._' He emphasised, and then kissed her passionately, '_I promise I will return._ Now, I know you do not want to feel useless, so go outside- but be armed. I know you can fight. Help the people get them to safety. Our guards are escorting them to the back hills behind the old barn a few miles away. Do you know where I'm talking about?'

Serlaith nodded, eyes on Dirmuid, the others too frightened and working to notice their scandalous kiss.

'Please be careful. I need you to come back alive,' Serlaith begged, fresh tears falling.

'I will, but you need to be too. If you get killed, I'll just have to raise you to life and then I would have to kill you again, now, won't I?'

Serlaith actualy giggled a little, swatting him as she smiled through her tears,' You silly man, now is not the time for jokes.'

Dirmuid gave her one last kiss,' This is not goodbye,' he promised.

Serlaith nodded, 'I love you.'

'I love you too.'

Serlaith watched as he disappeared through the crowd of chaos. She did no longer know where Caiolfhionn, Cathal or her family were. She felt alone. Scared. After she gathered herself, she grabbed her bow and arrows, as well as a few small daggers and a large one, which she placed in the weapons belt she managed to get.

It was now or never.

* * *

There was so much blood.

The streets were literally flowing red. She wept as she helped the people, noticing her friendly neighbour, the stable boy, the bakers all lying dead. The smell of death was strong in the air, that she had thrown up when she first stepped outside.

Serlaith was out there an hour, evacuating the people. Finally, they were virtually all gone. The nearby clan's guards had arrived to aid theirs after a messenger was sent out.

Now, she needed to find Dirmuid. She thanked God she had found him so easily. He was at the gates to the town, fighting off two guards at once. Quickly, she retrieved her bow from around her body and placed an arrow upon it. Aiming for the Franj with no helmet, she managed to hit him in the side of the neck. She nearly fainted as she watched the blood spurt out of his neck.

She had killed someone.

She had killed a brother, a son, a father.

But seeing Dirmuid get injured, she fled to him, coming from behind and stabbing the Franj.

'Serlaith! Thank God you're safe!'

She was sure her face would have permanent tear stains from the amount of tears that fell, as she looked up to him.

'There are not so many left now...I...I think we have a chance at winning.'

Dirmuid nodded in agreement, 'Come.'

She followed him to the stable, where there was a horse saddled with bags filled, ready for a journey. And it wasn't just any horse- it was hers.

'W...what...?'

'I'm sending you off to our destination.'

'What? NO! You're horse is not saddled, so you are clearly not coming, and what about our family!? NO!' Serlaith screamed at him, hitting him weakly on his chest. She was so overcome with emotions, and the fact she was capable of killing scared her. Dirmuid let her hit him out and when she fell against him, sobbing, he held her until she quieted a few minutes later.

'Please. Go. For me.'

Serlaith stared at him, 'I...I can't. I won't leave you or my family.'

Dirmuid looked at her with such sadness, that it nearly broke her heart.

'My family is dead. Yours... I do not know. But if I share the same fate as my family, then I will be happy to at least know that you are safe, and I will watch over you.'

She did not know why, but his words hit her extremely hard. Reluctantly, she nodded, giving him one more kiss before they departed. As she stepped back, she immediately noticed the approaching Franj. As she pulled out her dagger she screamed to Dirmuid.

'TURN AROUND!'

He knew what to expect but as soon as he turned, a sword speared through his heart. Serlaith was numb. He fell to his side and she fell to her knees beside him, holding him in her arms. She chanted no, like a mantra.

'Live...I-I...Love y-you,' Dirmuid choked out before he coughed up some blood and she watched as the life left his eyes.

Serlaith was then roughly pulled up by the Franj who watched their scene.

'_Eh bien, qu'est-ce un prix. Vous êtes une jolie. Quand je vous ramène, je vais avoir du plaisir._ (Ah, what a prize. You are a pretty one. When I take you back, I will have some fun.)'

Serlaith did not understand him, as he spoke Frankish. She honestly felt like just giving up, but she remembered what Dirmuid had said to her, '_Live...'._

In the moment it took for him to understand she was confused, she had kneed him in the groin and was making a run for it. Unfortunately, she ran into two more Franjs. She fought and kicked against them, biting them until they gagged her and bound her. A hard blow came to her head and she fell blissfully into the darkness.

**I absolutely hate doing research. But I would hate to be so historically wrong, so did what I could. Addressing Serlaith hunting with Dirmuid, it was not uncommon in the clans for women to hunt- they did a lot of the things men did, except they did spend more work with children and the home than the men did. I got this off wiki answers...**

**_Medieval women did many of the same things medieval men did, though they did spend more time than the men working in their homes and with their children. Of course, since most people were peasants, most medieval women worked on farms.  
Other medieval women worked in textile, clothing, service, and food industries, as we would imagin_****_e. But women did many things we would not so easily guess. I recently read a paper on the construction of a church in France where the majority of the workers, including carpenters and masons, were women. Some of these were masters of their trades._**

Read more: Q/What_did_medieval_women_do#ixzz22tn28dET

**However, hunting with a noble was a lot less heard of, but it was the relationship between my OC's families that it was not so scandalous.**

**I hope that death scene wasn't horribly cliché...Please do not hate. :S**

**All the other random words in Irish aren't that important. I know the flashback was kind of long, and I did A LOT of filling in some info and things...well...I'm sowee. *hides* **

**And I thought about a lemon, but then no. Just leave you all to your imagination. I think it's too much for the first chappie my dear readers. But never fear, more will ensue...:)**

**Next chapter we will find out how she is doing in France...and I will tell you she will be voyaging to Masayf next ;) And we will meet the beautiful, handsome, arrogant Altair. **

**So I beg of you to be patient and review this chapter.**

**Hopefully you will like this and I will try update as soon as I can. I _will_ finish this.**

**~FatherOnceSpokeOfAnAngel**


	2. Chance Meetings

**-I hate the death scene in the last chapter. It seems so…cheesy/cliché, but oh well.**

**- Hopefully in this chapter everything will make more sense**

**-Hehe. Altair**

**-Also, my story does not appear on the homescreen part of Assassin's Creed category, you can only find it if you search certain details. Like, you just can't search Altair as a character. You have to search rating, length and in-progress. Or that's what it's like on my anybody know how to fix this? If you can help please PM me :S**

Sweat and vomit filtered through her nose and she awoke violently, sitting straight up. She could feel the ground moving, could hear crashing sounds outside. The room she was in was dark, so Serlaith could not see a lot . She could make out what looked like small, wooden beds (hers felt the same) and people. Serlaith could hear their groans and moans.

Then she remembered.

She had been taken with the Franj.

They were taking them back to their land with her.

_Oh God, oh God, oh God. No, no please no! _She thought over to herself, beginning to quietly sob, bringing her knees up to her chin, and buried her face in them and wrapped her arms around her legs. When she felt that no more tears were coming, she got up and went to get out of the room. She slalomed through the groaning shadows, kicking her feet a few times against bed corners she could not see. She was grateful she was still wearing her boots. Finally she got to the other side of the room, and after feeling around for a door she finally found one. Serlaith went to turn the handle but it was locked. She violently shook at the door. Nothing.

'Let me out!' she started banging on the door, speaking loudly in her native tongue.

Finally a guard opened the door and started speaking to her in angry, harsh Frankish. He tugged her by the arm and she resisted.

'Where are you taking me?' She said to him as he pulled her along (after locking the door again), but all he did was look back to her and smirk back at her, clearly not understanding her words, but her meaning as confusion swept her face. Serlaith glared at him but didn't protest any further. Let him think that she is just one very innocent, helpless girl…and she had her dagger in her boot. She hoped.

Serlaith could make her escape after she got outside. She could already smell the…salty air? Then she realized. The corridors were far too narrow and everything was made of wood…And the ground rocked. She was on a boat.

Serlaith watched the guard in her peripheral vision. He still kept his strong grip on her upper arm, and it was hurting her.

'Can you please let go a bit? You are hurting me and I won't run. I can't go very far after all.' But only confusion was seen on the guard's face…Maybe he spoke English. She knew English after the Normans invaded earlier before she was born, and so had the Saxons, and with them their languages.

'Uh…English?'

'Ah, so we have a smart prize on our hands? ' he quizzed, the ever-present smirk still on his face, his Frankish accent coated his words.

'Yes. Is that so surprising? A woman who can speak another language?' She snapped back, getting angry at his belittling tone. Back home, women were basically seen as equal - they just had more responsibilities with children and the home. For her quick mouth she received a hard tug on her arm.

'Do not disrespect me, _wench,' _he sneered. She wiped her face in disgust as he spat over her, but furthermore remained quiet.

Serlaith was taken to what she assumed was the senior guards' cabin as the guard knocked and was granted permission to enter. As well, the cabin was larger and more lavish (though not luxurious) than the rest of what little she had seen of the boat.

'_Ah, nous avons notre petit prix avec nous maintenant, les hommes. Que ferons-nous l'utiliser pour, hm? _(Ah, we have our little prize with us now, men. What shall we do with her, hm?)'

Serlaith tensed when she saw the face of the man who spoke. It was the guard who had killed her brother. From what little she had seen of his face that night, it was definitely him. She knew it. Serlaith grew irritated as they spoke in Frankish, and became paranoid as the group of five or six men around him laughed. She narrowed her eyes and made a hissing sound by clamping her teeth shut and pushing her tongue to the back of her teeth, blowing out air to achieve the sound, like an animal.

'Speak to me in a language we both know!' She demanded. A look of surprise crossed her lover's killer's face, then a smirk, which seemed to be a trademark of these men.

'Oui, oui. You are a prize. Lucky girl has slept for a week! I doubt you remember waking up as we had to force feed you and give you a drink to keep you alive. And how do you repay me? By laying demands on me. After we were so kind,' he said in a patronizing tone. At this point he was in front of her, and had the guard hold her arms back. The killer ran the side of his finger along her dirtied cheek, 'Look. You are all dirty. We watched your land for days before our…Little visit. You are quite the beauty, child.'

Serlaith sneered and his finger came over to trace her lips. She took this chance to bite painfully down on his finger. He yelled at her as she held on then let go and he stumbled back, holding his finger to his chest.

'Why, you little, bitch! _Vous sale pute! _(You dirty whore!)' he shouted at her, and with his undamaged hand he back-handed her across the face.

Serlaith whimpered slightly at the sudden deal of punishment.

'Now look what you've made me do! I have never hit a woman before but, alas, that was a first I never wished to do.'

'No, you don't hit them, you just take them. In both meaning of the word,' she spat back.

Choosing to ignore her comment for now, he was now asking a question directed to the guard holding her.

_'Pourquoi avez-vous l'amener à moi, maintenant? _(Why did you bring her to me now?)'

_ 'Vous avez demandé de l'emmener dès qu'elle se réveilla, monsieur_ . (You asked to bring her as soon as she awoke, sir.)'

'Eh oui, oui. You may go. All of you may go. But leave the girl,' the killer finished. With respective nods, the guards left and closed the door behind them. Serlaith now stood in the middle of the room, glaring at the man.

'Not the best of starts. Shall we start over? Bonjour, mademoiselle. I am Robert de Sable. And you are...?' he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Serlaith remained mute. The brute of the man towered nearly one foot over her, and she was quite tall herself- at 5"8. His hair was cut short, and his features were too sharp, too angular. He was bulky, all muscle, like a carving. She stared him out, refusing to look from his gaze as that would be a sign of submission.

'I know you are not mute, girl. So speak.' Silence.

'Speak goddamnit or am I going to have to slice it out of you?' he snapped, taking his small dagger to her throat. Serlaith did not flinch and remained standing, but her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest at the rate it was hammering. After crying so much she was now standing her ground. _Well, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? _she thought to herself.

Robert continued to press the knife further into her neck, until she felt a liquid trickle down her neck.

'Serlaith,' she said defiantly.

'Ah, now she speaks. Well, _Serlaith_, when we return to France, I dare say it should be another week, or less since God has praised us with good weather, we will get you cleaned up and pretty again and you can serve me. For all my needs,' Robert smirked.

'You disgusting, dog!'

'Well, maybe not all, _darling_, I swore celibacy. But I know my men don't abide by it as well as I.'

'W...why...y- ugh! You are a filthy human being. You killed my...You kill people!' Finally her emotions snapped and angry tears threatened to spill.

'I killed your...? Oh yes, I remember. _Your Lover. _That pretty boy. Pretty useless. Couldn't even defend you or himself.'

'Don't you DARE! Don't you talk about him like that!' She moved a step to close the short distance between them and, pretending, tripped and slipped her hand into her boot retrieving the dagger. Robert stood still and as soon as she righted herself, she immediately aimed for his chest. But she forgot one thing.

Never underestimate your opponent.

Dirmuid's words haunted her, '_They are exceptional fighters...'_

Robert intercepted and had caught her wrist, and wrapped her arm around herself. He had her chest up against his, his own dagger against her throat.

'You little viper. Now I have no choice.'

He turned and had her pinned against the table, her spread eagle on it. Raw fear was on her face. Robert smirked, 'It's not what you think.'

Serlaith looked at him with fear and then he reached over her. She couldn't see what he was doing until a vial with a thick, syrup liquid was poured into her mouth. She clamped her mouth but his hand reached down and groped her. She gasped and he poured the rest of the syrup into her mouth.

'Goodnight, _Delilah._'

Serlaith tried to keep her eyes open, but black began to seep into the corner of her eyes, and soon she fell into the familiar darkness.

* * *

Serlaith could feel warmth upon her face. She smiled to herself as she felt the familiar softness of sheets- not hard wood.

Maybe what had happened a little over a week ago was a dream...A nightmare really. That would explain why she lost a week of her life. She opened her eyes and stretched. She awoke to a completely white room, which had basic furnishings. A chair, table and a chest to store clothes.

She knew immediately she was not home. What had transpired was a nightmare. Except she was still living in it.

She jumped out of her bed and checked the white door. She rattled the handle. Locked. She sighed and returned to the bed sitting on the edge. Something flashed in the corner and it was a mirror. But it was unlike any mirror she had seen before. It was of the shiniest metal, and it was like looking back at a near replica of herself. It was unnerving.

It was nearly the full length of her. The first thing Serlaith noticed was that she was changed into a white nightdress. She tensed. Somebody had to change her. She was also a considerable amount cleaner. Her red hair was braided down her back. She could clearly see her face since it was free of dirt and grime and blood. She had lost weight as well...Nearly too much.

A knock was heard at her door. Why did they bother knocking if the door was locked?

'Uh...Come in?'

The door unlocked a young guard came in. He could barely be any older than Serlaith herself.

'Bonjour, mademoiselle. You go to kitchen. You start duty to Monseiur Robert today. Here, clothing,' he spoke in broken English. He dropped the servant clothes on the table and with a nod, left closing the door behind him.

Serlaith would accept her fate now. But she was scheming already.

She would get away.

Robert de Sable should never underestimate his opponent.

First, she had to find the kitchen.

* * *

Serlaith had worked for the Order of the Knights, who were now under King Richard I's rule, for four years. In that time she felt like a slave. She only had rest on Sundays. Her morning began just before sunrise, and ended well after twilight. She worked hard. Serlaith was glad not once had she have to attend to Robert's or his men's 'needs'. She prayed every night for a chance to escape, and was allowed to attend church as she was Christian. They did not prevent her from doing so because they too prayed to God.

Serlaith had grown as a woman. Her hair was cropped once, but now reached down to her waist, still the ever fiery-red. She had tanned nicely, though her freckles had multiplied across her arms. She did not needing to apply any salve to stop her burns, like when she had arrived here in France.

Robert believed that she had been broken. He couldn't be more wrong. Serlaith was still as wild as the horses that raced through the beaches and moors of Eire. She was too high-spirited, stubborn, determined.

This day had not started like any other. Robert was sent to go visit the Holy Land again, but this time he was bringing Serlaith with him. He had apparently reached a higher rank, near being Master. The voyage was worse than the one to France, for she had been 'sleeping' for most of that one. She could not get her 'sea-legs' and had thrown up nearly as often as a wave crashed against the boat.

Finally, the boat docked. And she thought France was warm. Serlaith felt like a pig roasting on a spit above a fire. They had to travel an hour to their destination in Acre by horse. Robert kept her horse on a lead, glad she could ride.

'At least you aren't as incompetent as other women.'

He received stabbing glares.

Before they entered the large bustling city, she was handed a white scarf to wrap around her head. She was bewildered.

'If you want your innocence intact I suggest you wear it,' Robert said indirectly. Serlaith abided by him.

She could feel the sweat sliding down her body at the intense heat, glad when they had dismounted and she was shown to her room. They locked the door. After three years she still wasn't trusted. Robert was smart.

Serlaith settled in for the night. She would need one night of rest before her big escape tomorrow.

* * *

They were fast.

Serlaith manoeuvred through the crowds of people at the markets and stalls like she would through the deep, green forests of home. God, what she would do for some rain. Never again would she complain about the weather of her homeland.

Serlaith had come to a dead end. Just her luck. She considered her options, and the only way she could see was up. Horse-riding served her well, and she managed to pull herself up the flat walls, struggling though. She got to the top and noticed a wooden structure with curtains. Quickly she fled to it. Serlaith panted heavily, then tried to calm her breaths. She waited. And waited. Serlaith could hear no noise, and after peeking out and having a look round, there were no more of those guards chasing her. They had finally gone. She had done it.

She had escaped the worst.

Serlaith fell back unto the soft fabricated ground of the structure, and soon her eyes felt heavy and closed.

* * *

It was now dusk. Serlaith had managed to get a horse and bridle but sadly no saddle. After a lot of misunderstanding, she had nearly given all her coin except for a few coppers and one silver (which she stole before she left). The merchant's son could speak a little English, and she got the most of his directions to get her to the next town over. Something ma-sife, ma-say-ef?

She had travelled a few hours, galloping and taking little breaks. Serlaith's stallion (she wish she had chosen a mare, but he was the cheapest) had acted up. Now she could see why he was considerably cheaper. The horse reared at nothing, bucked, took off and shook its head. She managed to stay on for the rearing, grabbing his neck as he rose. When he took off, all she could do was grip desperately with her thighs and pull the reins in sharp tugs. However, the two times he bucked she had landed in a pile of dust, with the horse racing off. She came to the conclusion that all he needed was a bit more training. Walking for nearly an hour she found him grazing on little grass along the vast desert. Serlaith had never seen such little green in her life.

Deciding to rest for a few hours, planning on leaving during the night when it was cooler, she found a cluster of dry, desert shrubs and one large, yet pitifully leafed, tree. Serlaith tied the horse, letting a long rein for it to have more room to lay and walk. She took out the flat bread and hard cheese for her to eat, nibbling and put the rest away for later. She poured water into her hand for the horse to drink, and took a sip. She was nearly out already.

Serlaith saved the rest of the water for later in the journey, and settled down underneath the branches of the tree with her head scarf as a pillow.

* * *

Altair had decided to travel through the night, after an unexpected stay completing a mission. He was returning to Masayf for his next one. His horse was beginning to tire. It wasn't that he did not like the horse- it was a spirited little mare, but just was not fit enough for the extremes he would put his horses through. Altair wished he wasn't so careless to get his last stallion killed after an ambush. That was a good horse.

Letting the horse walk on a longer rein for a rest, Altair spotted a moving figure near some desert green. Dismounting his horse as he got closer, he realized it was another horse. It had no tack apart from a bridle, and was munching on the leaves of a tree above it.

As Altair neared, the horse started to prance. He ran a soothing hand across its flanks up to its neck, and it calmed. Was it left to roam? He could do with a horse like this. Then he heard it.

A cough.

Preparing his dagger, Altair rounded the shrubbery and could see a sleeping figure. A symbol was open the cloak. As he got closer he recognized it. Altair roughly pulled up the smaller person (he assumed it was a new recruit as the boy's frame was a lot smaller than normal).

A gasp emitted from the boy's lips as Altair had him against his back, dagger to throat.

'Who sent you?' He growled.

The boy did not answer.

'I-I do not understand.'

Ah. English.

Altair switched languages, 'Who sent you!?' He demanded more angrily.

'No one! Who are you? What are you doing?'

'Do not lie, _boy. _I would know that red cross anywhere, _Templar. _You know of me surely. I am an assassin!' He seethed.

'Yes. It's the Franj! I stole it when I escaped.' Who was he? An assassin?

Altair scoffed, though a feeling niggled him that what he spoke of was the truth.

'Where are you headed? What is your purpose, boy?'

'To Masayf! I think that's how you said it...And i have no purpose. I told you, _I'm trying to escape,' _the boy pleaded desperately.

'Do not lie to me, boy!' Altair grew frustrated, relaxing his hold a little, but not the dagger.

At this moment the young man had slipped through his arms and was now facing him, own dagger pointed towards him.

'You are trained. You do lie!'

'Yes. By my...my brothers!' The boy hesitated.

'Put down your hood, boy. Let me see your face.'

'You put yours down,' he retorted. Altair growled. He was nearly as insufferable as a woman with his replies.

'Fine, I shall do it for you!' With practiced speed, the hood of the cloak was down. He stopped.

'You...You are a woman!'

The mysterious woman did not say anything, simply holding her dagger further out. Altair slipped his dagger back into his belt and raised his hands to show no more weapons (except his hidden blade, of course).

'I will not hurt you. Why didn't you tell me earlier?' he snapped.

'I was planning to but you had a dagger to my throat and were throwing questions at me.'

Altair 'hmph-ed' in response. The woman lowered her dagger, but still kept it in her hand. He could not see the details of her face, but her fire-like hair and bright, green eyes stood out in the darkness.

'Well, I apologize for my...advances. Good luck on your journey.'

The woman looked at him bewildered, 'Where are you going?' She asked as she held on to the reins of his horse once he was mounted.

'Why?'

'I'm afraid I'm a little lost, you see. I am not from here...I assume you realized.'

Altair stared down at her, 'If I offer you my services, how will you repay me?'

'I, I'm afraid I spent all my coin on buying that stallion over there,' she gestured to the horse now rubbing its neck against the tree, 'and all I have left is a few coppers and a silver.'

Altair thought about it, then noticed the shiny flash of a ring on her left hand.

'I will not take your coin, but if you give me that ring I shall lead you there.'

He noticed the women hesitate. She looked down and twisted the ring on her fourth finger.

'A-alright,' she said quietly, and handed him the ring, wishing he had taken the coin instead now.

Altair studied it. It was like no ring he had ever seen before.

'This is unique. Is it from England?'

The woman hand mounted her horse, and was now beside him, 'No. Ireland. The two hands holding the crowned heart. The joining of hands, heart and crown represents a perpetual bond of friendship, love and loyalty. If you wear the ring with heart facing inward, it means your heart is taken. If the heart is facing outward, it means your heart is open,' she finished quietly.

The assassin watched the woman from under his hood. He could see great sadness in her eyes.

'Was yours facing in or out?' he questioned. When she did not answer, he sighed and put the ring in his bag-belt, and clicked the horse onward. He knew he would get no answer.

They rode in silence until the early hours of morning.

* * *

Serlaith could not believe herself. She had given her ring away to a stranger. _Dirmuid's _ring. She had found it that night of the attack in the pocket of her breeches. He must have slipped it in there.

The man never spoke once to her, and she did not speak to him. Thankfully, her horse only had a few half-rears as the galloped across the sands. They arrived in Masayf just before sunrise. As they entered he finally spoke.

'Here is your destination. I will be leaving now. Be sure to wear your head scarf,' he said.

Serlaith trotted to catch up, 'What is your name?'

The man looked back at her, his face placid.

'Altair.' With that he galloped off to the north of the town.

Serlaith watched him ride off, then looked for a place to bed her horse.

* * *

These people were aggravating. She had to next give away her black cloak and all her coin. She was only left with her moth-eaten, hooded cloak to cover herself with (apart from her top and breeches). Her horse and she got boarding for a day and night, with food. If she rationed her food properly it could last her a couple of days until she could find work, or get coin or food another way.

Serlaith had been roaming the streets for nearly a day now. She had successfully stolen a lump of cheese, and managed to steal four coppers, three silvers and even two gold coins. These people were not too wise carrying those amounts of money loosely on them. She had only been caught for the bread, but she managed to outrun them and they never saw her face because of her hood.

Serlaith was planning on leaving tonight again so she could catch a boat to England, then one to take her home. She badly needed a saddle. Serlaith wasn't too sure if she fell off again she would be uninjured, or that the horse wouldn't completely vanish. She had often come by the large castle that nobody knew what went on there. It intrigued her. The stables were situated at the base of the mountain that the castle was situated on. Serlaith had watch the people in the white robes (she was quite sure they were assassins after she met Altair) and only one man watched the horses from dawn 'til mid-afternoon. Then they would switch from mid-afternoon until dusk. A third man would then come out and sleep at the stables as the night 'watch' (though they slept).

Serlaith planned to steal one of the saddles. Most were heavy and thick, but she spotted a light, cropped version of a saddle, with girth attached. She waited until the night guard was on and had fallen asleep. They slept in the tack room, where there were a few blankets thrown on the floor for them to rest.

Serlaith tip-toed by the slumbering man and successfully got the saddle and was headed out the door, with one more look back she walked forward. Right into the wall.

'Ah!' she dropped the saddle. She heard a ruffle and she ran.

'THIEF!' She was sure the man was shouting in his own language. The man had awoken and was chasing her.

Serlaith ran and started to scale the near-by building. But these men were worse than the Franj. Three were now chasing her and although she got a good start, they scaled the building after her like spiders. She got to the top and they were hot on her heels. As she climbed the next part of the building, the man jumped and grabbed her cloak, and she landed with a hard bang on her backside, 'Owww!' she groaned before she was pulled up by two of the men.

They started to scold her in the tongue of the Holy Land. She looked at them with complete confusion.

The men did not bother talking to her again. They tugged her down the buildings, then lead her up the winding path to the castle that she was curious about. Now her curiosity would be sated.

And curiosity killed the cat.

* * *

'We found her stealing tack, Master,' one of the men said.

Serlaith had eventually gotten through to one of them who could speak good English. Her curiosity rose again seeing hordes of the men in the white robes. Some were more exquisite, some less. They were practicing in a ring, and she even seen one madman jump off the edge of a building, landing in a pile of hay!

Serlaith kept her head down as they talked to their 'master'. He too wore the same style of robes as the others, but his robes were black. The way the man spoke, walked and stood screamed authority, and demanded respect. He wasn't going to get any from her.

'I see. Abdul, you may stay to hold this one. Anyone else, be gone.'

Feet shuffled and murmured 'Master's' were heard. It was only Serlaith, the master and the guard? Assassin?

'What do you think you were doing, boy?'

Serlaith did not speak, but was getting annoyed now that everyone assumed her a boy.

'Mute are we? Remove your hood!'

She did not.

'Abdul, pull down the hood.'

The man did so, and her wavy, red hair fell from the hood.

'Ah. As I thought. You were much too slim of frame to be a boy.'

The Master walked around her, assessing her as if she were a horse for trade.

'What do you know of this place?'

Silence.

'I said, what do you know of this place!?' He demanded, lifting her head up with his hand under her chin.

Serlaith locked gazes with him, her eyes narrowing in defiance.

'Shall I really cut your tongue out so you really become mute?'

Silence.

'Fine. She is obviously holding something. Kill her.'

Serlaith's eyes widened and she spoke in a flourish.

'No, no, please no! I-I heard you are assassins! And-and you are not too friendly with someone...or some _people_ called Templars!'

The corner of the Master's mouth quirked, ever-so-slightly.

'Have you been sent by them? Or are you helping them? For those breeches have their symbol upon it. You would have had to have been in their forts to get it. Also makes me wonder why you are wearing boy's clothing too...' he trailed off, thinking.

'Do you know more?' He questioned suddenly, breaking the pondering silence.

'No. Please don't kill me,' she whimpered. She hated feeling so weak, but she did not want to die.

'You wished to see me, Master?' Serlaith knew that voice.

'Altair, my boy. I have had an unexpected arrival. I will speak to you in a moment.'

Altair. _Oh God. _Serlaith looked over her shoulder. His gaze locked on hers and her eyes widened. From what she could see under his hood, so did his.

'Well, we certainly can't let you off the grounds now. You may be holding something. But first, your punishment. Twenty lashes of the whip.

'What? NO! Oh God no, please!' She begged as the assassin holding her started to drag her away. She writhed and kicked, vigorously flinging her limbs in order to injure him.

'After, have her be prepared by the courtesans. She can help repay the men after the wrong she has done. Its the only thing she can do. Or be killed,' he added.

Serlaith couldn't believe her ears! She now wished she was back with the Franj, though not the man who killed her Dirmuid.

'She knows nothing, Master Al Mualim,' Altair said.

Al Mualim turned and faced his best assassin.

'Excuse me? How would you know?'

Altair glanced sideways at her, then conversed with the Master (of assassins Serlaith figured) in the tongue of the Holy Land.

After a few moments they finished.

'You are lucky, woman. No lashes. Straight to the courtesans now, Abdul.'

The man nodded and began to take her away. Serlaith decided not to push her luck. She prayed God would forgive her for her sins. She could get out easily of having to be a courtesan, she hoped. Just simply blend into the background.

She looked back as they descended the stairs. Altair was watching her. She noticed something...Weird in his stance and face (what she could see of his face, that is).

With one last look, Serlaith was taken outside to be readied.

* * *

**Finally. **

**Anyway, about the Claddagh Ring (two joining hands with the crowned heart). The Claddagh name didn't appear until the 17th century, but it was a fede ring. So, there was a big possibility that it could've existed before that, just simply without the name. **

**Robert calling Serlaith 'Delilah'- she was deceiving like Delilah.**

**I feel the Robert bit was a bit rushed, but i wanted to get to Altair :S**

**Okay, about how of al the people it was Robert that got Serlaith. Well. History time! (don't have to read, just incase you're curious).**

**So, Robert de Sable was part of the Crusades (obviously). The Order of Knights was under the order of King Richard I (this is what most sources were saying).**

**King Richard's brother, John, was made Lord of Ireland by their father Henry II.**

**At this point, the English crusaders were winning and had conrtol over the French or something (history really confuses me).**

**Ireland was often called 'the back door to England', so the probability of an attack wouldn't have been odd.**

**Okay, lesson over. If this isn't right, then I shall be taking some artistic license. :P**

**Again, sorry for any mistakes as I have no beta.**

**~FatherOnceSpokeOfAnAngel**


	3. Distracting Little Horse

**Thank you to all who faved/reviewed/followed. It really means a lot! **

**-Hopefully that was the last of rushing through the years in chapters**

**-I will try to slow down everything a bit (not really slow, but just enough for it to be realistic)**

**-I hope i portray the people in a realistic way**

**-I feel I've portrayed Al Mualim wrongly and OOC, but I do not intend for him to be that mean :S It's just because he's protecting the Order that he was harsh**

**-All reviews whether criticism, questions or just to make me happy are encouraged! :)  
**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything to do with AC, only my OCs.

**Edit: **I changed Altair and Serlaith's conversation because what had before wouldn't fit later on. Tried to fix mistakes as well.

* * *

There was a large canopy around the west side of the castle. Fantastic colours wove around each other in a brilliant display. Serlaith found herself staring as the Assassin, Abdul he was called if memory served her, who was now not holding onto her. He had his hand placed at the curve of her back merely guiding her.

They passed through what Serlaith guessed to be the entrance, for there was no door but two large pieces of the colourful fabric in front of many beads that hung from the fabric roof. Once inside, she was able to see walls and a proper structure, that was simply hidden underneath the colours.

Serlaith finally noticed the beautiful women, dressed in slithers of clothing that barely covered their bodies. Some were in a corner, gossiping and giggling and every so often glancing sideways at Serlaith. Though she was wearing full clothing she still wrapped her arms around herself, embarrassed and paranoid.

'Ah, Abdul. Tumbling with another woman?' A tanned beauty approached them. Her hair was as black as a raven's, her eyes the perfect almond shape and a dark, warm brown. Her lips were red and her face was evenly proportioned. Serlaith felt like a donkey beside a prize steed. She did not understand them, but knew by their glancing they were talking about her.

The young assassin grinned and shook his head.

'There is only you, my love,' he replied to the courtesan and she gave him a sultry smile.

'What is this young woman doing here?' She asked, getting to the business.

'Ah, she knows of us and Al Mualim fears she knows more and cannot trust her. She is to remain within the grounds and there is nothing else she can do better than be with you lovely ladies. You must teach her your ways, and try teach her our tongue aswell if possible. Or not, she may be less dangerous if she does not understand. But she is to be nothing more than a courtesan. Do not teach her more than she needs to know,' he warned cryptically, though Serlaith could not understand. She had learned a little of their tongue when she had to journey to Palestine on few occasions, but it was very basic knowledge.

The beauty nodded,' Of course, Abdul. We will start with her right away,' with that she turned to Serlaith and motioned for her to come with her. Serlaith had remained quiet, her hair shadowing herself and her gaze. She had one last glance at the assassin before she was taken by the hand by another courtesan.

The girls giggled amongst themselves, pointing and assessing Serlaith when they reached a room with more mirrors, clothes and oils.

The woman that had been talking with Abdul smiled at her, 'I am Aaliyah,' her accent was thick with her words yet beautiful, 'we must strip you to best...accentuate your assets.'

Serlaith stared open-mouthed at her, 'What?...No! If you give me some clothing I will try it on?' She refused.

Aaliyah shook her head, 'What if I keep two of my girls so we are not all looking at you? Darling, we all have the same bodies here.'

Serlaith could feel her cheeks redden again. She would've refused, but after four years of refusing to do certain things, her escape and the narrow escape of getting twenty lashes, her energy to fight back was gone right now and she nodded softly.

Aaliyah spoke and four of the girls left.

'Do not be afraid, child. We will do you no harm.'

Serlaith gave a small smile. This land was so different, she was overwhelmed. She occupied her mind with all she had seen as she travelled through the land of Palestine. The women instructed one another as they made Serlaith bathe. They rubbed scented oils over her body and hair. She felt herself relaxing at this pampering. The warmth of the water loosened all the tension throughout her muscles. Once she had bathed, the courtesans began to dress her, trying different colours of fabrics and different styles of clothing. After they had dressed her, they next started on her hair,, weaving flowers through it. Serlaith was not allowed to look at herself once. Finally, after what had seemed like hours, she was allowed to look at herself in a large mirror. She opened her eyes and gasped.

Serlaith was actually...Nearly as beautiful as the others. Often she was described as pretty but her slightly rounder face was described as a Cherub's and she ended up looking younger than she was. Her hips made her walk awkwardly when she was younger, and she thought her shoulders were much too broad. She knew Dirmuid often called her beautiful, but she could never see it herself and she knew he was talking about her personality as well. But her appearance now...She was nearly as exquisite as the women surrounding her. She now had arching eyebrows, a sculpted nose, thick eyelashes and her fiery hair was twisted into an exqusite braid, scented flowers decorating her head. The outfit left little to imagine of her soft,round breasts and showed her narrow waist. She had on a thin strap of fabric which covered her breast and went around her back. Her legs were worse- she had a thin bet that went around her lips, and two strips of the fabric covered the front and back of her. She hated it.

'Do you like it?' Aaliyah questioned.

Serlaith eventually moved her lips to form words,'Yes,' she lied. She was beautiful but beauty was dangerous. She did not want to lie with any of the men. She wanted to leave.

'Now, we must teach you to act on your beauty. Many will be interested in you, little one, for you are exotic to them. Rare. You must use what you have to entice. Sway your hips, keep your back straight and push your shoulders back.'

Serlaith tried to copy Aaliyah, but felt she was rigid next to her. If she listened and did as told, maybe Al Mualim would trust her enough to let go.

'It's a start. We will work more later. First, we will being teaching you our tongue. Or at least enough to get you by,' she said and took Serlaith's hand. She said something to the girls and they left the room. Aaliyah would point to different objects in the room. She spoke slowly in Arabic, then spoke the English. Serlaith would then copy her. She taught her how to greet people, say thank you, ask names, age, work and so on. Serlaith was beginning to get overwhelmed by the information, but took it in readily. Aaliyah praised the young woman on how quickly she was learning. Serlaith found that the structure of the language was much like her own native tongue. Weeks passed and Serlaith knew enough of the language to hold small conversation. Aaliyah began to teach her the alphabet with a stick and the sand. She would draw the symbol in the sand ,'_Alif_,' she would say and make Serlaith repeat the letter and symbol. Learning the symbols was a completely different thing compared to the language, and she struggled. Eventually she learned. While Aaliyah was teaching her, the courtesan girls were teaching her a different subject.

Aaliyah had not allowed for Serlaith to tumble with any men, merely just to be a peek of what the courtesans had to offer. She was nearly ready, according to Aaliyah, but not quite yet. At night she would have to listen to the moans of the women and grunts of the men. The doors were nothing but the mere beads that hung from the entrance to their home. As she would display the beauty of the women, she often caught glimpses of what the women and men would do with each other. She had never seen so many ways to please another, and blushed often as she would catch herself staring. On one occasion, she had seen one of the girls on her knees in front of one of the assassins. She stood to the side watching, her curious nature coming out. They shifted slightly and _then _she saw what she was doing. She gasped and dropped the clothes. Serlaith quickly gathered them up but she was caught. The girl (Sabihah she believed she was called) had an odd smile on her face. Most of the men requested her because she was the most beautiful (apart from Aaliyah of course). The man was smirking at her too, and Serlaith willed herself to quickly go on. Her body did not agree, and she just stared dumbly at the two.

'New girl, like what you see?' She said in Arabic. Serlaith managed to understand her. She knew the language quite well now, but it just took her a moment to process the words.

Serlaith moved her lips but no sound emitted. Sabihah was beside Serlaith all of a sudden and was pulling her into the room. Serlaith immediately downcast her eyes for she had never seen a man so obviously naked before.

'Don't be shy,' Sabihah giggled, taking her hand and pushing her to the naked assassin.

Serlaith gasped when her body was flush against his and she could feel his member probe her. She stared up at him. His dark hair was short but messy, his face chisled with a sculpted nose and an angular jaw. She looked back over her shoulder at Sabihah, 'Go on. I think you've been kept away long enough,' she came up beside the two and kissed the man on the jaw. She pushed him back onto the bed and pulled Serlaith along with her onto the bed with him. Serlaith accidently glanced down at the base of the man's legs. Sabihah mistook this, 'Here, touch. I'm _sure _Anis won't mind.'

Sabihah gave Serlaith no time to reject as she grabbed her hand and wrapped it around his manhood. Anis groaned and closed his eyes. Sabihah didn't let go of her hand and guided it up and down. Serlaith was blushing and was in a daze. It was so hard, yet felt soft under her hands. Only when Anis' hand travelled up her side and under her top did she snap out of it and she jumped off the bed suddenly, 'I-I am sorry...I c-can't,' she stuttered and grabbed the clothes she had taken to be dried and nearly ran back to the wash room at the back.

Serlaith was a whore like the others. She did not understand how they could live like they did, and so willingly.

Serlaith closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before exhaling. She couldn't believe what she did. She was not as innocent as she had been when she was younger, but she had never experienced what she had there.

She'd betrayed Dirmuid. First his ring and now by showing off her body to other men.

Aaliyah came to retrieve the clothes, interrupting Serlaith's thoughts, but stopped, noticing the girl's flustered expression and reddened cheeks.

'Serlaith...?'

Serlaith opened her eyes and quickly began to sort clothing, 'Mm-hm?

Aaliyah arched an eyebrow.

Serlaith looked back and knew that Aaliyah had a fair idea of what happened. The beauty said nothing more and left.

* * *

Serlaith had been with the Order now for just over five months. In that time she had only seen Altair about the grounds. She watched him fight young novices, reluctantly teach some of them (patience was a virtue he did not possess) and watched him pack up his horse at the base of the mountain the castle was on, to leave for a mission. In those five months she had been with the courtesans and not once had Altair stepped foot in their home. She found that the women were actually very kind and thoughtful, but were true gossipers-her opinion had changed about them. They gossiped about the missions the novices were sent on and about the scandals amongst them. At this she questioned them about Altair. She never knew what he said to the Master Assassin to prevent her from getting lashes. They gave her funny glances before Sabihah spoke.

'He is not sociable. If he could, he would speak to no one. Altair barely speaks with anyone and if he has to, he uses as little words as possible as if he did not wish to waste his breath. He only really talks with his _Master_ Al Mualim for he is his star student. I have heard whispers that he is capable of being a Master Assassin, as he has become Assassin ahead of the other by nearly two years. He is one of the best we have seen yet.'

Serlaith knew he was not sociable for he barely spoke to her the one time they had met five months ago.

'It's a pity. He is so obsessed with the Order and yet he is so handsome, though he always wears that damned hood,' at this all the women nodded and spoke of his appearance- his nose and jaw, how you could even see his muscles move under his robes if you watched closely enough. None spoke of his golden eyes, though. When she met him, his eyes seemed to glow like a hunter's.

'But do not bother yourself with him. He does not fall prey to our charms,' Sabihah finished, eyeing Serlaith before conversing normally once again.

Serlaith was unsure about Sabihah. Though she would gossip and actively engage Serlaith in conversations, she would glance and eye the foreign girl in a distasteful manner. After their little incident, nothing more had happened. They talked about different things from the handsome novices to where each one came from and how they lived before living with the Order. Serlaith grew curious at this topic, and asked what possessed them to be courtesans.

'I had run away, you see, for my father was forcing me to marry a man I did not love. If I hadn't loved another, I know I would've done as my father asked,' Suha began,' sadly though, he did not love me. I was uneducated to do anything else so I became a courtesan. Eventually finding my way here.' The girls took sympathy on the youngest girl. Although their stories were different, they all agreed on one thing-they would rather be in the walls of the Order than outside them.

'You see, we are treated properly here...Or as properly as we women can be treated,' another began when Serlaith questioned their motive,' the men-novices and experienced alike- do not force us to do anything we are not willing to do. Al Mualim provides us with a comfortable home, materials and food and in return we help his apprentices. And should we fall heavy with child, we are free to leave if we so wished to keep it. Should we want to get rid of it, he provides us with coin to buy remedies to do so.' Serlaith cringed at the thought- why would they kill an innocent, unborn child? But the women spoke of the coin they needed, support of a man. What man would raise his wife's bastard child?

'Why does he hold you within? Surely the men can go to other places like this?' Serlaith questioned.

Suha answered her, 'Al Mualim wants them to be focused. We will not form any attachments and nor do they. For if they did, they would be blinded by their relations and he cannot have that. We are here to relieve them so they do not seek out others.' Serlaith could understand this. She felt pity on the women. Though they could leave, they had no man to support them and if they were to go to another brothel, they may not be treated as well.

And Serlaith was one of these women now.

'But it's not all bad,' Suha spoke up,'for we are not just here for the men,' she said cryptically.

Aaliyah had been listening and silenced the girl, giving her a glare.

'What do you mean?' Serlaith asked too eagerly.

'Come on. We must clean up after our meal,' Aaliyah instructed, nobody answering Serlaith's question. Soon she dropped the subject but it never left her mind.

* * *

It was now high summer, and her body was not used to the sweltering heat of the sun. When the women were allowed to watch the novices, they had to cover themselves as to not distract them in the training ring. Although it was better to wear the white linen than to have the sun beating down on them, this one day Serlaith went without her headscarf. She wanted to feel the breeze (if warm) and not have the scarf blocking her peripheral vision.

Serlaith was standing with Suha (she had become very close with the younger woman) and watched two novices fight. It was two brothers, Malik and Kadar. She felt it was unfair as Kadar was younger and was not quite at the rank his brother had reached. Malik defended that he needed to improve and to do so he had to fight someone of a better ability.

Serlaith was impressed by the younger brother's attacks, counter-attacks and defensive attacks. They were both using swords, and some novices were placing bets. Malik had more, but a fair number bet on Kadar, though he was a lower-ranked novice, he was experienced for his age and training. Eventually, Malik defeated Kadar. He was stronger than his younger sibling, and using his protected forearm to protect Kadar's blow from a blade, he pushed him back with his other arm. The younger novice tripped and fell. Malik straddled his brother, hidden blade to his throat. Some novices cheered as he won, while others grimaced at the though of losing what they had bet.

Serlaith found herself smiling at the display, and Suha and she being the only women watching, soon attracted Malik, who was followed by his brother.

'Hello, Suha,' Malik began, giving her a smile.

'Impressive, Malik. I was afraid that Kadar was beginning to beat you at one point.' At this, the younger brother grinned stupidly at the beautiful, young courtesan.

Malik rolled his eyes, 'He is improving. I'll give him that,' he said with a friendly shove to his brother.

'And I have seen you before, though I never caught your name...?'

'Serlaith.'

Malik raised his eyebrows, quickly glancing her over.

'A strange name. You have a thick accent too, though I cannot identify it. A pleasure to meet you, _Serlaith.'_

Serlaith smiled and nodded.

'Nice to meet you, Serlaith,' Kadar chipped in, and her smile widened at the young man, but his gaze was just past her.

'Where are you from, might I inquire?'

'Ireland.'

Malik tried to pronounce the name and she giggled as he made it sound funny.

'I have never heard of such a place.'

'I doubt you would've. It is very close to England.'

'Ah, a place I know exists,' he said grinning. Serlaith decided she liked the novice. He was charming and was quite handsome, since he had put down his hood.

Serlaith smiled and Suha excused herself, giving Serlaith a knowing look as she left.

Suddenly, Malik's expression turned sour, but Kadar's turned sweet.

'What is wrong?' she asked, but Malik shrugged and muttered he had to leave. Serlaith watched him go and his brother answered her.

'It is Altair. He does not like him very much.'

Serlaith nodded slowly, wondering why. Kadar must have known what was on her mind for he spoke again,

'He despises his position as the Master's best student.'

'What about you? Do you like him?' Kadar nodded eagerly.

'One day, I hope I will be as good as him.'

Serlaith smiled and encouraged the young man, 'I am sure you will be.'

At this point Altair was close enough to hear the conversation and Serlaith turned to face him, as did Kadar.

'That was acceptable, Kadar. Next time, try someone different as each person has their own style.'

Kadar nodded, readily taking Altair's advice, and soon scurried off with a large smile on his face. Serlaith raised an eyebrow as he left. If anything, Altair was belittling what Kadar had done in the ring- he was far better than 'acceptable'.

'I would say he was great, actually,' Serlaith began, watching Altair under his hood.

'Ah, so the little horse has learned our tongue.'

Serlaith scowled at him calling her a 'little horse', but it soon disappeared.

'I have not spoken to you in five months and I ...wanted to say thank you.'

'Thank you? For what?'

'For taking me here to Masayf.'

'I made you pay if you recall. Probably could've made you pay the coin too,' he replied, folding his arms across his chest.

Serlaith decided to ignore is arrogant comment,'Well, I'm thanking you for preventing me from getting lashes...What did you say to him to stop him from doing so?'

'I spoke with him. Convinced him to not give you them.'

'Why?'

'Why?'

'Yes. Why?'

Altair thought for a moment before answering, 'It doesn't matter. It is my business as to what I said. You wouldn't understand.'

Serlaith arched an eyebrow at his patronizing tone, 'Okay. My womanly mind cannot begin to process what your superior mind has had to do.'

'Of course it cannot. If your mind was sharp you would be back where you belong,' his responses turning bitter.

Serlaith glared at him,'I think you think you're better than what you actually are, and you fool everyone else into believing your façade. You probably do your fair share of ass-kissing to Al Mualim.'

Altair growled, 'My _ass-kissing _got you off from getting twenty lashes.'

'Well, I said thank you for that, didn't I?'

Altair rolled his eyes and said 'You should wear your headscarf. The sun will burn you.'

'Thank you for your_ concern_ again, Altair, but I shall be fine. I'm just a little hot in these linens. At least my head is free from them,' she snapped.

Altair shrugged, 'Do what you want. I believe you do so anyway,' and he turned to leave.

Serlaith watched him go, finally free of having to thank Altair. Hopefully, he would not call on her as a favour for the deed he had done for her. She hated being in debt to someone, especially him of all people. After she had lost sight of him she returned to the courtesan home, feeling herself burning under the sun's heavy gaze.

* * *

Serlaith had been called to see the Master Assassin. Abdul was there to escort her again, and Mistress Aaliyah was there also.

They bowed before him and Serlaith reluctantly repeated.

'Serlaith. How nice to see you again.'

'Wish I could say the same,' she muttered.

Al Mualim looked at the woman suspiciously, 'You have proved yourself. You will start training with the others.'

'What...what do you mean?' Serlaith questioned, confused.

The old Assassin smiled, 'You women help us more than you think. We will train you in basic fighting skills so you can defend yourself. We will teach you to climb, wield weapons. You will be taught to recognize enemies and helpers. If you are requested to go on a mission with a novice or assassin you must do as they say. Women like you can distract guards for them to complete missions and withdraw information.'

Serlaith stared at the Master then looked to Aaliyah, 'Is that what Suha meant when she said we are not just...courtesans?'

The Mistress nodded in reply.

'Training begins tomorrow.'

With that, they were dismissed, Serlaith processing what had just occurred. Her sleep was restless as she was anticipating what would happen tomorrow.

* * *

**Sorry, was kind of a filler.**

**I tried to show Serlaith's changing view on the courtesans-they are just human-so that's why she had a little incident with Anis and Sabihah :$**

**Through the courtesans i hope I showed Al Mualim as to be actually nice, and a bit more IC.**

**Oh. Altair and Serlaith didn't get on too well. :S**

**I apologize for any typos as it is now exactly 2.20AM as I forgot about this and had to get it up today...or yesterday since its after midnight?**

**So, I'm sorry for any grammar, punctuation.**

**~FatherOnceSpokeOfAnAngel**


	4. Weapons for the Covenant

**Sorry I didn't update :S**

**-I got some terrible news about my mum's friends daughter. She died just this weekend after her horse fell on top of her. **

**-Reader and Fan: **Yes she is, as her family were and that was influeneced even more when the Norman invasion in 1171 (i think) brought the religion too. It is more her own thoughts on the terminations, but she would've been influenced a bit by the religion.

-**TheHaloFreak: **I'm sorry, I have had to skip another few weeks because of training D: I'm so mean. And next chapter (or the one after) there is going to be a year jump as we will encounter Altair's mess-up with Malik and Kadar. :S

**-xVentressx: **lol, so do I. Poor Serlaith is living with them, but they have reason and are not as bad as others :S

**-Stop/Anon: **I'm sorry you see my story that way (though I know I can be a bit of a scatter brain) and Serlaith is not meant to fall as a Mary-Sue, though your review has made me look over her character a bit, so thank you for that. But I'm sorry that my story isn't that usual slash of this category that many expect.

**-Sorry for any mistakes and enjoy!**

* * *

Serlaith had so many questions as she was lead back downstairs and out to the gardens where her housing was. Aaliyah dismissed her, 'Visit Sabihah. She will help you get prepared. Training ring at dusk.'

Serlaith nodded, but groaned internally at the thought of having to speak with the girl. She looked in each room as she walked by, and found Sabihah in the back room, alone (thankfully). As Serlaith parted the beads, they clinked together and Sabihah looked up. A slow smirk spread across her lips, 'Come for a lesson, new girl?'

Serlaith scowled and shook her head, 'No, Mistress Aaliyah told me to speak with you about getting prepared for the training ring later.' Sabihah's smirk faltered and her mood changed.

'Right then,' she said and rifled through the stack of clothes in the basket. She lifted out white trousers,robes and a red sash, much like the outfit of the novices.

'This is men's clothing, is it not?'

Sabihah nodded, 'Put these on,' she said, shoving the clothing into her arms.

Serlaith glared at the woman and went behind the screen in the corner of the room. She pulled on the light trousers, but they where tailored around the ankle so one would not trip on them. Serlaith pulled on the light tunic next. She then put on the robes over her. They too were light, with darker sleeve, and there were two slits at either side of her legs, and one in between. She was surprised that the hood was a separate piece and it too, like the sleeves, were grey. Finally she tied the red sash around her waist. She stepped out, already feeling extremely warm compared to the clothing she was used to wearing in this warmer land.

'Am I meant to look like a novice?' Serlaith said as she studied herself in the mirror.

'Yes. You should leave now. You don't want to be late,' she said, pushing Serlaith out of the room and towards the beaded door.

Serlaith looked back at Sabihah with a confused look, but the woman just looked at her sideways before returning to her room. Serlaith made her way down to the ring, tying her hair up in a bun with a red ribbon. As she approached the ring, Aaliyah, an Assassin and a novice (she could tell by the grey in his robes) were waiting for her.

'Serlaith. I would like you to meet Rauf.'

Serlaith nodded and smile, 'You train the novices?' she asked him.

'Yes,' Rauf replied, 'and now I am to train you. If you are fit for it, that is,' he said with a grin.

Serlaith raised an eyebrow, 'Okay.'

Aaliyah spoke up, 'We are going to watch you fight Kadar first. If you are...good enough, Rauf will teach you further. You will work up the ranks like the others, but you will not be training with the novices all the time. If you can succeed in increasing in rank, we will permit you to train with them.'

Serlaith nodded slowly, wrapping her head around the new information.

'We have only word of mouth of your...skills. So we will start at the bottom. You will fight Kadar first, no weapons.'

Serlaith looked to the young novice now standing in the ring with her.

'You may begin,' Rauf's voice disrupted the momentary silence.

Kadar was poised and ready. His feet were shoulder-width apart and his knees slightly bent. His elbows were bent, fingers flexing.

Serlaith mimicked him, distracted for a moment. Kadar saw an opening and he lunged forward, his right arm coming around her neck and gripping her right shoulder. He turned her around so she was flush against his back. Kadar's left hand came up to her neck, imitating a hidden blade that would be there if it were a real fight.

'Hey, no fair! I wasn't ready!' Serlaith complained.

Rauf spoke, 'You have to be prepared for anything. What if you weren't ready on a surprise ambush, hm? You'd be dead now. Again,' he motioned with his hand.

Serlaith positioned herself and did not look once away from Kadar, waiting for him to attack her again. They circled each other for a moment, before Serlaith made the first move. She quickly ran past him, knocking his arm so he stumbled. As he blundered she leapt onto his back, her arms and legs around him and pulled him to the ground, both of them landing on their sides. Serlaith was atop of him and had the heel of her hand against his neck, mimicking a blade, and she grinned at the young man.

'Better. Again,' Rauf said.

Serlaith frowned. She didn't even get any praise. They took their positions again, and continued to duel each other for several more rounds. Eventually, Serlaith was getting worn out and began to make mistakes, resulting in Kadar 'killing' her three times in a row. Rauf had permitted them to use wooden swords as he saw her fit to try, but her stamina failed her. Finally, Rauf put a finish to the session.

'You are skilled enough to progress, Serlaith. I am pleased, though you will need to work to get near the standard of some of the novices. We will continue again tomorrow.' Rauf nodded once to her and left. Serlaith turned to face Kadar and gasped when she saw the blood on his cheek,'Oh my! I am so sorry, Kadar!' She exclaimed.

Kadar just smiled 'It's fine, Serlaith. I've had much worse. I will not be so easy on you next time though,' he teased. He bid her goodnight and left to follow Raud. Mistress Aaliyah had been present the whole time an smiled at Serlaith, 'You are better than most of the other girls, but as Rauf has said, you need to work to get to the abilities of the men. Come, you must be tired.'

Serlaith nodded and followed. Night was coming fast and Serlaith changed out of her sweaty robes and went out to the garden to wash and cool herself with some water. She stood behind the ivy screen (though it still had holes and she was slightly paranoid should anyone wonder by and see her) and quickly bathed herself with an old rag. She changed into the light night gown she had with her after drying herself and slipped it on, before returning to her bed chamber.

Serlaith fell asleep, reliving the events of today.

* * *

Serlaith's views of the Order (and Al Mualim) changing. She could see why her new friends stayed her. They were treated well and Serlaith had a steady supply of food and a bed to sleep in every night. She was safe here.

Serlaith worked hard with her training, gradually progressing to the equivalent of a Rank 5 novice. She had learned to wield weapons such as a dagger and long sword. She could now counter attacks, throw knives and had improved her free running (though she still struggled to keep up with the speed of her teachers). Serlaith had been permitted gloves aswell and had learned how to catch herself, should she fall from a ledge. However, she did not receive the hidden blade that many others did at a lower rank. She chose not to. She wasn't an assassin. Serlaith trained with them and followed their ranks, but that was only a guide really, for she was to be a spy for them, she found out from her mistress. She was able to use the weapons she had learned, but was only permitted to carry some daggers. She was not to kill anyone, unless it was absolutely necessary.

Rauf had been reporting to Al Mualim about her progress, and the Grandmaster now saw that she was able enough to accompany some of the novices on their journeys. She had been given a note as to her first mission.

She groaned at the name of the assassin on the parchment.

Altair Ibn-L'a Ahad.

* * *

The next morning arrived all too soon for Serlaith. She awoke with a shadowed figure above her, and she immediately sat up in bed, wrapping her sheets around herself. Her vision was still blurred with sleep, but she managed to make out the towering figure.

'Come. We must leave now.'

Serlaith glanced through the open window in her room and complained, 'What are you doing!? It is only dawn! If even!'

'Did I interrupt your wonderful sleep?' he teased, 'We have to ride to Jerusalem and it takes two days. I would like to arrive before the second night so we won't have to camp out again. Get dressed and meet at the stable,' he ordered before leaving and disappearing out of sight. Serlaith fell back onto her bed. She just needed to close her eyes for a few more moments...

'God dammit, woman! Get up!'

Serlaith leapt upright, frightened out of her sleep. It was Altair. And he did _not _look pleased.

'I have waited until the morning prayer of some of the novices! If you do not get up right now, so help me I will lift you and put you on that damn horse, dressed or not!' He snapped.

Serlaith looked at him with wide, sleepy eyes. She felt like she was a child being scolded.

'I-I'm sorry. I'll get dressed now,' she said quickly, getting out of bed and going behind her screen to get changed. A few moments later, she was making her way down the path to the stables. Altair was already atop of a horse..._Her horse!_

'What do you think you are doing? That is my horse! Are you stealing him again!?' She huffed, grabbing his reins and trying to pullthem out of Altair's hands. He pulled the reins up sharply and the horse whipped it's head up, neighing and backing up.

'Now you've scared him!'

'My horse is not fit for this journey, and yours seemed the best. Do not worry, I've saved you the best mare,' he growled.

'Why can't you take this mare!?'

'She is not capable of carrying me and my load. You are much lighter. Now mount before you make us any later.'

Altair had already began trotting off, so Serlaith quickly mounted and cantered to catch up. As soon as they had left Masayf, Altair set a steady pace.

_Just you wait for him to act up, Altair, _Serlaith thought bitterly. They had journeyed into mid-afternoon before Ceol began to act up. He reared at a bush, and bucked violently after a bird flew to close to him. Altair stayed on though, but the third time he was not so lucky. A snake slithering in the bushes caught his eye and he began to flare his nostrils, half-rearing and backing up. Serlaith slowed her mare down, a satisfied smirk on her face as she watched Altair curse blindly at the stallion. He kicked the horse's sides, reins whipping at his neck. Ceol neighed louder and began to turn in circles, his hind quarters lowered. Altair's anger increased and with a large smack to the horse's flanks with the reins, he bolted, with Altair hanging on.

Serlaith's smirk disappeared and she urged her horse forward into a gallop. The mare was just behind, not as quick as thepowerful stallion. Serlaith squeezed her heels into the horse's side and was now side-by-side with Altair and the spooked horse. She put her reins into her left hand and grabbed the pommel* of the saddle. She leaned forward and grabbed Altair's reins. Serlaith yanked her horse back and pulled on Ceol's reins, and finally the horse slowed. He reared one more time before stopping dead, and dust blew up as Altair fell to the ground with a _thud. _

'Give me the mare!' Altair snapped, rubbing his back which had suffered much of the impact.

Serlaith smirked, 'Nope. You wanted my horse, you are going to ride my horse.'

Altair, already frustrated, pulled Serlaith out of the saddle easily and set her down.

'Hey! Did I say you could touch me!'She snapped. At home, she wouldn't have minded, but she played on the culture of this land. This made Altair falter, 'I'm sorry, you can have your horse back,' he said tersely. Serlaith simply glared, but was happy to mount her horse. He pranced a little but Serlaith whispered soothingly to him, '_Sssh. Tá sé ceart go leor, Ceol. Dea-buachaill. Tá sé ach dom, _(Sssh. It's okay, Music. Good boy. It's only me)' she found when she spoke to him in her native tongue, the stallion calmed at the oddly sounding words.

Altair set a walking pace to give the horses a rest. He watched Serlaith as she soothed the puffing stallion. She found her words beautiful when she spoke in her own language (though he had only heard her speak it once before).

'What is your language?' He asked her, curious.

Serlaith watched him with a critical eye. So he was friendly with her now?

'Gailege.'

Altair furrowed his brows and fumbled trying to pronounce the words. Serlaith couldn't help but smile and a giggle slid past her lips. Why couldn't these assassins pronounce her homeland or language?

Altair looked to her and she could see his glowing eyes, glaring at her. She rolled her eyes and sounded it out again for him.

'Gwale-gah?'

Serlaith smiled, '_Tá.'_

'What does that mean?'

'Yes,' she replied.

Altair nodded in understanding. They did not speak any more until they set up camp by some trees in the evening. As darkness fell, Serlaith even began to shiver. It was even colder this night than when she first camped out. She wondered why.

As if Altair knew exactly what she was thinking, he answered, 'It is warmer in this season, so there is a bigger difference in warmth between day and night. It is more noticeable.'

'I see,' Serlaith replied, collecting dry twigs for Altair as he used a flint to get a fire started. When he had it going, they sat on the thin blankets he had had packed. Altair handed her some bread and dried meat and a water skin. Serlaith mumbled a 'thank you'. At the sight and smell of food, her stomach growled loudly. She realised she had not eaten all day (save for a small bit of bread in the morning). She had to restrain herself from tearing into the food like an animal. The dried meat was bland as was the bread, but her empty stomach welcomed it graciously. They ate in silence. When they had finished, Altair noticed Serlaith shivering. He looked down at her form on the blanket, and his close by hers. He sighed and lifted his own, placing it over Serlaith.

'That's your blanket,' she said.

'It's okay, I don't need it. My clothing is much thicker, and I have slept in the desert far more than you have.'

Serlaith smiled gratefully at him, 'Thank you, Altair.' He nodded his head and pulled his hood further down his head. He lay down a little bit away from the woman, leaning against a tree. He watched her sleeping. She had her legs turned away from him, but her torso was twisted toward him. One hand rested by her face, the other just under her breast. Serlaith's breathing slowed and steadied, signifying she had fallen asleep. Her face looked peaceful and youthful. Her lips were slightly parted as she breathed heavily in her sleep. Altair studied her for another while before he too fell asleep.

* * *

Altair awoke Serlaith at the break of dawn again. This time, she got up straight away, handing him back his blanket before packing her own away. The mounted their horses and set off to Jerusalem. They rode in a comfortable silence the whole ride, only stopping to eat and drink before riding forward to Jerusalem again. They reached the city gates before night fell. When they were a little way away, Altair spoke, 'Get off your horse. There is a stable just ahead. We will have to climb to enter the city, for I do not want to speak and raise suspicions with the Saracens.'

Serlaith nodded but thought by climbing past the guards into the city would raise more suspicions. They paid the keeper and Serlaith followed Altair to the East walls of the city. He quickly climbed up, grasping stones sticking out more so than others. Serlaith copied his path, but struggled. She managed to get over a little after him, and as soon as her feet touched the ground of the walk way, Altair stood to leap off into hay below in a dark corner of the walls.

'Altair, Ican't...'

'Can't what?'

'I can't jump down like that.'

Altair sighed and lifted her into his arms.

Serlaith knew what he was going to do. Sure, it wasn't that far down but she was a little afraid of heights (more so the falling from the height).

'Don't. You. Dare,' she growled.

Altair smirked and threw her over the edge. Serlaith bit her tongue to prevent herself from crying out. She landed with a heavy thud, pain shooting through her back side. She got out of the hay just in time to see Altair dive off into it. He looked so graceful as he did, tucking into himself before he landed in the hay. The moment of awe Serlaith was experience was wiped immediately as the smirking assassin got out of the hay.

'If you ever do that again, _I will castrate you,_' she threatened.

Altair's smirk faltered a little but was still evident, surprised to hear such a threat coming from her, 'I'd like to see you try,' he said in a daring tone.

Serlaith glared daggers at his back as she followed him through the city. As they walked she looked around at the different life here. It was very busy, people pushing and shoving against her. Women carried large jugs on their head and merchants shouted at passers-by, trying to sell their merchandise. Beggars were at ever street corner, and as Serlaith passed them they tried to grasp at her feet, 'I have family, please spare us some coin!' They would moan and wail. Serlaith felt horrible, and contemplated giving some coin, but Altair put his hand to her back and pushed her on, 'Do not encourage them,' he would say. Another thing she noticed was the smell. It was horrid, like rotten corpses. Animal dung littered the streets, as did human waste as Serlaith had to constantly watch out for people throwing buckets out their windows. As they got deeper into the city, it became busier, so Altair took to the roof tops.

Serlaith followed quickly up the wall. Altair hurried forth, jumping across gaps and running across the roof tops with practiced ease. Serlaith had difficult catching up. She managed to stay near him until they reached an opening in on of the rooftops, where the Creed's symbol was printed. She dropped down into the roof after Altair. There was a small, sprinkling fountain that enticed Serlaith, and she ran her hands through the water, splashing her face and cooling herself. She looked at the first small section of the bureau. Plush, coloured pillows were laid out across the room. Oh, how she wished she could fall onto them, for she was exhausted keeping up with Altair and they were far more comfortable looking than the hard, desert ground. She followed Altair into the next room where there were more cushions. There was a desk with an old man sitting behind it, working on what appeared to be some sort of map. Shelves were situated behind him filled with an assortment of things- jars, books, herbs and perishable items.

'Ah, Altair. You and the novice may rest here for tonight. Tomorrow I will give you want you want.' Altair nodded and took some food and drink that the man handed to him. He halfed the food with Serlaith and ate quietly, the old man working away on a piece of parchment. Serlaith felt like she was in pure bliss as she fell asleep, comfy on the plus cushions beside Altair.

* * *

Dawn soon approached and Serlaith and Altair were awake and had eaten breakfast, which consisted of some dried oats(?) and water. The Dai finally awoke and spoke with Altair.

'What , or who should I ask, has Al Mualim sent you for this time?'

'He told me to ask of one called Osama Al-Bawali. What can you tell me about him?'

'Ah, yes,' he began, not acknowledging Serlaith who had her head down behind Altair, as he rifled through some books, 'mm-hm. He has suddenly gotten a lot wealthier much too fast. He works under Saladin but there has been rumours of him associating with Templars outside of the city. Find out what he knows.'

'Where should I look?'

'Try the richer market places more north-west of the city.'

Altair nodded and left, Serlaith following.

'What am I meant to do?'

'When we get to the market place, listen in and gather any information.'

Serlaith nodded and ran with Altair, jumping and running across rooftops until they reached their destination. She immediately noticed the difference. The people were more finely dressed in brighter linens. Beggars were virtually nowhere to be seen and the smell was much less assaulting to the nose (but that was not to say it was pleasant).

Altair leapt down to the ground and walked toward a large fountain in a centre courtyard. He turned to face Serlaith, 'Meet her if you have gathered any information. Listen in on conversations, ask around without being suspicous,' he told her.

'I don't think it's a good idea we...,' she trailed off as he had already disappeared through the crowd. Serlaith grumbled to herself about the infuriating assassin, a scowl on her face as she filtered through the people. She was sweating as the sun rose high in the sky, telling her it was mid day. She had listened in on conversations, but heard nothing of Osama. A young messenger boy, with a few letters in his hand, caught her attention. He dodged through the crowd artfully and Serlaith followed him. The young boy met up with a finely dressed man, handing him the letter. The boy was dismissed and Serlaith sat on a bench near the man, another older, greying man meeting him.

'Here are the orders for the armies, Osama,' Serlaith perked up a little, listening intently as the man continued, 'He is getting impatient and wants the new designs. Now. He won't give full payment until all have been delivered.'

'He needs to learn to have patience. All in good time, for they will be great. Be gone, I must meet late tonight, after dusk at the blacksmith's at the east side. If you have any more news, meet me there.' The younger man nodded and disappeared, as did Osama.

Serlaith immediately started making her way back to the fountain. She cursed herself when after what seemed until late afternoon of wandering, she took to the roof tops again, trying to get a better view. A tower was nearby and she began to climb. She reached the top and had a good view of the city (though her heart was pounding in her chest as to being so high up). The large Temple was near the fountain, she remembered, and she climbed back down, running across the rooves, following the Temple. When she had reached it, she waded herself through the visiting people and found the fountain. Serlaith spotted Altair on a bench beside the fountain.

'What took you so long? I have been waiting since midafternoon, and it is now nearing dusk!'

'I got lost because a certain _assassin_ abandoned me!' She snapped.

Altair's icy glare met hers. They stared at each other for a moment before Altair broke the silence, 'What did you find out?'

'That Osama is dealing with some sort of orders-'

'Yes, weapons.' He received a glare from Serlaith for cutting her off.

'As I was saying, he is dealing with orders and is meeting with someone-'

'-At the blacksmith's yes?'

'Well, if you know so much you can do it yourself,' Serlaith snapped at him.

Altair let out a heavy breath and looked at the angry woman in front of her. Her hood covered her face but he knew under it her brows were furrowed and her lips were set in a hard line, scowling. Her arms were folding and she was favouring one leg, and he knew she was glaring at him.

'Fine then. He's meeting just after dusk at the blacksmith's at the east side of the city. Go on. You knew that already didn't you?'

Altair simply looked at her then began walking, 'We must hurry, dusk is just upon us.'

Serlaith smirked. It was as much as an admission to defeat she was going to get.

* * *

They had waited until evening prayers and finally Osama appeared. Altair and Serlaith had positioned themselves in what looked like an old hayloft but was now hoarding an assortment of instruments, from old pliers to swords to horseshoes. Dust and rust were everywhere, and both had inevitably stained their white robes.

Osama had dressed down as this particular section of the east district was considerably poorer. THe same dung filled, putrid smells returned. Altair held a finger to his lips, signalling Serlaith to be quiet. She rolled her eyes- she hadn't spoken once since they descended into the loft through the roof anyway.

'You know what happened to your...friend. If I don't have those weapons ready it will be MY head on the line,' Osama hissed in greeting.

'I-I'm sorry,sir. We have more on the bows already, all is left is the last order.'

'You better be ready. Sable will kill me,' he seethed and turned and fled. Altair tensed when he heard Sable. Serlaith knew that name...But dismissed the thought as quickly as it had entered her mind. Altair left through the hole in the roof again and followed Osama. Serlaith followed like an obedient dog. They kept low on top of the rooves. Osama had gone done a more deserted alley. Altair seized the opportunity and leapt off the roof, landing on Osama. Serlaith crept to the edge and watched.

'Tell me what you know!' Altair demanded, shaking the man's collars. Osama grasped onto Altair's wrists. He was trying to stay calm but the fear was evident in his eyes.

'I know nothing!'

Altair pressed his blade further into the man's neck until blood was drawn, 'I want information. Or your life can compensate for it.'

Osama's eyes widened and he spoke in a flurry, 'DeSable! He is raising his knights..He-he h-has a treasure. The Covenant! Please, that is all I know! I am simply following orders in getting weapons!'

Altair nodded, then sank his blade into the man's neck.

Serlaith gasped, watching as the light and the man's life faded from his eyes. Altair closed the man's eyes and looked round to Serlaith. He saw her horrified expression.

'You shouldn't have watched that,' he said quietly as he climbed back up to the roof. Serlaith remained quiet and so did Altair, though he would look her way a few times. Altair returned to the bureau and they rested for one night before journeying back to Masayf.

Serlaith couldn't get rid of that final scene from her head. It was like reliving Dirmuid's death all over again. She turned on her side, facing away from the Assassin in the bureau, silent tears falling.

He was a murderer.

* * *

**Sorry, I quickly proof read this but I know there will be mistakes and I apologize. **

**R+R.**

**~FatherOnceSpokeOfAnAngel**


	5. The Killer and the Treasure

…**Hi…:$**

**-I am sorry I have been gone for ages aha. But it's just the usual…life. Don't worry though, I will finish this, it's just my updates won't be regular.**

**-Anyway, at the minute, I don't like this story, but I will continue on and maybe when I finish it I may rewrite it.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The tension between them, as they journeyed back to Masyaf, could be cut with a knife. Neither Serlaith nor Altair spoke to each other.

They didn't speak when Serlaith's mount spooked at a snake and took off across the desert sands.

They didn't speak when Altair shared out the food.

They didn't speak as they settled down for rest.

It annoyed Serlaith to no end. Though she was stubborn. She wasn't going to talk to him, he should…Should what? For Altair did nothing but what he was supposed to do. Or was he? He had no need to kill that man, he did not look dangerous.

Serlaith fought with herself in her head, debating whether to speak or not to Altair. When they arrived back in Masyaf, and had stabled the horses, she spoke, 'Why did you kill him?'

Altair did not turn to face her, he simply continued to walk up the long, winding path to the castle. Serlaith let out a breath and jogged to catch up. She was sweltered from the heat and the layers of clothing. She dropped her hood back, her auburn hair finally free from being thrown up in the hood.

Serlaith altered between jogging and walking, trying to keep up with him, 'Altair, please!'

'What? What do you want me to say? Sorry?' He said, surprisingly calm. He offered nothing except a glance over his shoulder to her.

'I want…I don't know what I want. I just…Why?'

They had already reached the castle because of his infernal pace. Altair stopped suddenly, and whipped around to face her, so that she stumbled back a little. His hand reached out to catch her arm, his grip tight.

Serlaith winced at the sudden contact.

'He would've returned to the person he was informing, and he would've told about how I was there. It would spread, then everyone would be on alert.'

'Oh, and leaving him dead was going to help?'

'Well, they wouldn't know who had done it.'

'I am sure they could take a guess who it was.'

Altair said nothing. Serlaith couldn't see his eyes past the hood, but she was sure the way he was glaring, that the would form holes in her head. Serlaith looked to the ground, the intensity of his gaze forcing her to. He loosened his grip, then eventually let ago. Altair turned and left.

Serlaith waited for a moment, processing what happened, before heading back to her own chamber in the gardens. The look on Altair's face, when he killed that man, scared her.

Serlaith didn't see Altair over the next few days. He went to Al Mualim himself to provide details of their journey. After all, he was the star and she was a novice, a woman no less at that. For that short time, her days were uneventful.

She took the time to talk with Suha. It was nice, to have a friend, a female friend. They talked for a couple of hours over the days. About silly things, fun things. Suha now had the attention of one of the assassins. Out of all of them, of course it was Abdul. Suha assured her that he was indeed kind. Serlaith still remained sceptical, but was happy for her friend.

Sabihah on the other hand, was as suspicious as ever. She still had her regular (Anis, she recalled) and ever since their 'moment', sideway glances had been going her way. To clear her mind, she went to the training, where she often fought with Malik, or Kadar.

Malik was very careful, skulking around the arena. Whereas Kadar was the youth of the two, he did have passion for the order, and was willing to fight. Both, however, shared the trait of teasing her in the arena. Both also were great fighters. Despite their appearances, Kadar was the burlier fighter of the two. Malik, was quick and agile.

Serlaith received a few good training sessions in that short spans of time, where Altair did not bother her. Soon, her anxiety returned.

Altair and Malik were called to Al Mualim. They did not look happy as they were sent to retrieve Serlaith and Kadar.

'Where are we going?' Kadar asked what was on Serlaith's mind. Altair did not answer, striding ahead.

'You will find out, soon enough,' Malik offered. Kadar did not press them further, and Serlaith remained quiet too. They reached the bottom of the mount, and found all but three horses gone-including her own.

'Great,' Serlaith mumbled. The three other assassins mounted, Serlaith remaining on the ground. Malik grinned, and held out his hand to her, 'You can ride with me.'

Serlaith did not refuse, appreciating she would not have to ride with Altair. She returned him with a smile, grabbing his hand as he pulled her up and on to the back of the horse. She wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling the toned muscles that she was sure came with being an assassin. Serlaith caught Malik's brother's glance to Malik, and she was sure that Malik was grinning.

The three rode in a comfortable silence, Altair reserved as ever. Finally, they reached raised land, and they dismounted.

'Where are we?' Serlaith questioned, looking at the large structure.

'Mount Moriah, Soloman's Temple,' Malik replied. Serlaith nodded, like she knew what this place was.

Altair lead them, as they ventured to the back of the structure. There, one by one, they climbed up a short distance, and found their way into (what she assumed was) a hidden passageway. It was dusty and damp, a cold, stone tunnel supported by wooden foundations.

The only light was that granted by torches hanging sporadically along the walls. From that light, moss and some substance which Serlaith could only guess was water, dripped along the dusty, worn path. She stayed close between Malik and Kadar, Altair at the front.

Altair stopped them, 'Watch, maybe you will learn.'

The other three saw the old man standing in the tunnel, facing away from them. He stood still, hands clasped, almost like he was praying, but he must have been a lookout or servant, for he wore no uniform, just plain clothing. Why else would he be down here?

Malik must have sensed what Altair planned, and spoke, 'Wait! There must be another way. This one need not die!'

Altair did not heed his protest, and ran up to the man.

'Altair, no! Stop!' Serlaith then protested, running after him, but he was already ahead of her.

He pulled the man back into him, his hand on his shoulder, forcing him down to his knees. Altair unsheathed the hidden blade, and brought it down into the man's neck, as his other hand forced him to stay on the ground. The man did not scream, for it happened so fast, Serlaith doubted he even knew what had been done to him.

Serlaith was too shocked to do anything. Earlier, she had somewhat understood why he might have had to kill the informant in the city, but this…There was no need for this.

Malik and Kadar caught up with them, the man fallen on his back, dead.

'An excellent kill. Favour fortunes your blade,' Kadar praised. He looked up to Altair, and did not see the wrong with what he had done.

Altair still remained arrogant in his reply, 'Not fortune. Skill. Watch a while longer and you might learn something,' he repeated from earlier.

Malik shared Serlaith's thoughts, as he turned to his brother, 'Indeed, he will teach you to disregard everything the Master has taught is,' using his hands to emphasize.

'And how would you have done it?' Altair reprimanded.

'I would not have drawn attention to us. I would not have taken the life of an innocent,' he replied, pointing to the deceased man, 'What I would have done, was followed the creed!'

'Nothing is true, everything is permitted. Understand these words. It matters not how we complete our task. Only that it's done.'

'But that is not the way-'

Altair cut off his arguing, 'My way is better.'

'Get a hold of yourself, Altair. Malik is right, there was no need. How do you know if this man has a wife? Children? Grandchildren? You act but do not understand or care what consequences follow your actions,' Serlaith said quietly, glaring at him before facing Malik and Kadar.

'You are but a woman. You are not one of use. You are fair-skinned just like the Templars and I do not understand the Master, as to why he let you become one of the _brother_hood.'

Altair was face to face with her, looking down at her from his height (although she was quite tall herself).

'You will never belong, woman,' he growled, before stepping away. Serlaith stood her ground, composing herself.

Malik shook his head at Altair, and spoke before anything more could happen, 'I will scout ahead. Try not to dishonour us further,' and he left.

Kadar took the chance to question, 'What is our mission? My brother would say nothing to me, only that I should be honoured to have been invited.'

'The Master believes that the Templars have found something beneath the Temple mount.'

'Treasure?' Kadar asked. Serlaith kept her focus on anything but Altair. He was insufferable, arrogant and unjust. Not to mention he possessed a heart of a killer. Of course, she did not let her thoughts known to anyone.

'I do not know. All that matters is that the Master considers it important, else he would not have asked me to retrieve it.'

Serlaith could not help but scoff. Altair did not look or acknowledge her, but continued to walk. Water continued to drip down. They approached a hole in the ground with only the wooden structure remaining. Malik was on the other side, and Serlaith warily followed the assassins, taking longer to cross for she was not as experienced with climbing as them. She froze halfway, looking down at the darkening drop. Serlaith was not afraid of heights, but of falling. A pretty stupid fear if she was to be doing this for her time here. It was different when she scaled buildings. If she slipped, she could grasp onto something. But if she fell of this, she only had one, quic chance to grab the beam again, otherwise she would certainly die.

Kadar stopped and sensed her fear, and turned, 'C'mon, you'll be fine,' he stepped onto the next one after her, his hand out. She quickly jumped, grasping onto him as she wobbled.

'See? Fine. Just one more,' he encouraged her with a smile. Serlaith nodded and smiled warily, clearing the last jump a lot more easily. They came onto a ladder, leading up to another level. As they all reached the top, the construction was more familiar, with even stone ground and two large, stone columns disappeared over head. A guard stood there, and Altair stalked up, killing him silently and easily.

It still caused Serlaith discomfort to see anyone die, but she knew that he was the enemy. They approached a dead end, construction incomplete. Past the pillars, was a large, open space. There was logs and rubble scattered about, but the shape of a temple could still be made out.

'There,' Kadar said, pointing to the east of them, 'that must be the Ark!'

'The…Ark. Of the Covenant?' Malik said slowly.

All four of them looked to the large, golden casket, lavished in patterns and designs of all sorts. It was ornate, exquisite. It was situated on top of an archway, surrounded by another two stone pillars. Torches lined either side of it, the light reflecting off the Ark, almost giving it a glow.

'Don't be silly,' Altair scoffed, 'there's no such thing. It's just a story.'

'Quiet!' Malik shushed them, 'Someone's coming.'

The four crouched a little, looking to see who had come. Serlaith gasped loudly at who it was. Malik came behind her, hand over her mouth, 'Ssh,' he whispered into her ear, tickling her. She surpressed laughing and nodded. Slowly, he removed his hand. He shared a look with her, _Are you okay?_, he seemed to ask. She nodded, and they both looked to the tall, bald headed man coming through with two Templar guards.

His accent was thick as he commanded the guards, 'I want this through this gate by sunrise! The sooner we possess it, the sooner we can turn our attention to those jackals at Masyaf!'

Altair stood tall, 'Robert de Sable. His life is mine.'

'No!' Malik protested again, 'We would want to retrieve the treasure and deal with Robert only if necessary.

'He stands between us and it. I would say it's necessary.'

'Discretion, Altair!

Altair ignored his protesting, 'You mean cowardice. That man is our greatest enemy. And here we have a chance to be rid of him!'

'You have already broken two tenets of our Creed. Now you would break the third. Do not compromise the Brotherhood!'

'Altair, will you not listen to someone else for a change! You are making a mistake!'

It happened so quick, Serlaith didn't even have time to blink twice. Altair had his hand gripped at her wrist, hidden blade to her neck, 'I am both your superior, in title and ability. You should no better than to question me,' he spoke both to Serlaith and Malik.

'If you value your life, you will remain quiet and not doubt me.'

Serlaith would be lying if she said she was not frightened. The hunger in his eyes scared her, and she whimpered as his grasp tightened on her wrist.

'Let her go, Altair!' Malik demanded, pulling him away from her. He sheathed the blade and then began to climb down the ladder.

'Hold, Templars!' Altair spoke loudly, all attention drawn to him.

Robert de Sable turned to face the assassin, 'Ah! Well this explains my missing man. And what is it you want?

'Blood,' Altair replied simply.

Serlaith and the two brothers had already raced down. Serlaith ran to stop Altair, desperation that he would get hurt spurring her on. Malik had caught up, and they both tried to reach for him, but he escaped both their grasps. Altair had already had his blade out and bringing it down on Robert. He expected the attack and had grasped both his wrists. Altair struggled, forcing his blade closer to his neck, but Robert held him back. He was heavier and at least a head taller than Altair.

'You know not the things in which you meddle, Assassin.,' he released his grip on one wrist, only to grasp it around his neck. Altair tried to pry him off with one hand, without success.

'I spare you only that you may return to your master and deliver a message. The Holy Land is lost to him and his. He should flee now while he has the chance. Stay, and all of you will die.'

Malik and Serlaith both stared, unsure of what to do. Serlaith, inexperienced, was brash. She quickly ran up, her own hand grasping at Robert's neck, blade out against his neck, 'Let him go!' she growled.

Robert looked surprised, and Altair took the chance to free himself. But Robert now had Serlaith in his grasp. He gripped her wrist, squeezing it. It hurt, and Serlaith loosened her hold, 'Ah!' she cried out. He twisted her arm behind herself, and pulled her up against him, her back against his chest.

'And who do we have here… A woman,' He pulled down her hood abruptly.

'Such red hair. I have never seen such a colour, and complexion since…' He paused, and turned her to face him, his hand gripping her face, 'Well, what a small world indeed. Isn't it my lovely little,' he looked to the assassins before finishing,' ...spy.'

Serlaith looked at him. Was he planting doubt in their minds? She spat in his face, and it infuriated Robert. Altair decided quickly to intervene, but Robert must have planned on it, for he threw Serlaith against him, both tumbling backwards through some scaffolding. The rubble shook and scaffolding fell, blocking them from Kadar, Malik and Robert and his men.

'Men, to arms! Kill the Assassins!' Robert shouted.

Serlaith quickly got up, wincing as pain shot through her leg, 'No!' she shouted. She was desperately trying to pull away rocks, as swords were heard clashing together.

Altair grabbed her arm, 'We must go now! There is nothing we can do!'

'Don't touch me!' she hissed, 'If you hadn't have been so stupid, we could have got the treasure out as well as all of us. Alive!'

'I could say the same for you! I was handling Robert quite fine!'

Serlaith laughed, 'Clearly!'

Altair pulled her arm, pulling her backwards as he stalked on, 'Ow! OW! Altair, stop! We must save them!' she struggled, trying to yank her arm out of his grasp. It didn't work, for he was too strong. Her foot ached as she stumbled backwards blindly. Serlaith brought her arm up which Altair grasped, and she bit down hard on it.

'OW! DAMN YOU!' Altair shouted at her, whipping around and throwing her over his shoulder.

Tears had now formed and were rolling in fat lumps own her face, 'Altair, please! Put me down. We must save them!'

He stopped and dropped her to the ground, 'Listen to me! I would try to help them, but they are beyond reach! We cannot get back in, and if we have any hope we must return and tell the Master of his plans! Understand me, Serlaith!'

Serlaith quietened, as he used her actual name. She did understand, but couldn't they do something? If they did die… She knew that Cain would remind her of what had happened for the days that passed in her life. She couldn't bear the scrutiny of his gaze and nodded.

'Now, we must get out of here. Do _not _make me carry you again,' Altair warned.

Serlaith nodded and got up. Altair jumped down to the ground, and Serlaith followed. As she hit the ground she cried out in pain again. Altair turned and crouched down as she lay on the ground. He stretched out her right leg, pulling up her robes, 'Hey-'

'You are hurt,' Altair said. He turned her leg around slightly, and she winced. Blood now streaked her calf. Altair took the hem of her clothing and used it to gently rub away some of the blood. A large diagonal gash stretched across her leg. It was not deep but it still bled. Altair ripped off some of the robes and tied it around her leg tightly.

'We must keep the pressure on it, to stop the bleeding. Are you fit enough to walk?'

Serlaith nodded, and he helped her up. She cold manage walking easily, and she thanked the Lord that Altair chose easier routes to climb up, offering her a hand to pull her up (although it was not needed, for she only twisted her ankle slightly at the worst). Eventually they found their way out, and quickly took one horse roaming about. He jumped on, pulling her up. Serlaith wrapped her arms around his torso, resting her head against his back. She was feeling dizzy and upset from what had just occurred.

Altair kicked the horse on. Serlaith knew this was going to be one long journey.

* * *

Serlaith must have fallen asleep, for when she opened her eyes, Altair was lifting her off the horse.

'Be careful,' he said as she stumbled a little. The pain had dulled down so that she barely felt pain. The sun beat down on them without mercy, and her throat ached and stomach grumbled. The poor horse was panting, its nostrils flaring and its sleek coat was now matted with sweat. Altair must have rode him all night, for she did not remember stopping.

Altair threw her arm over his shoulder, and he crouched slightly as she walked across the town.

'Serlaith…Serlaith,' Altair called to her.

'You don't have to help me walk,' she protested.

'Serlaith, it would be much easier for me to carry you up this path. And a lot quicker,' he finished quieter.

'I am fine, I just need a drink, that's all.'

'It will be quicker,' and before she could respond, lifted her arm back over his head. With his left arm, he bent down and lifted her, his right arm under her back.

'I don't need to be carried.'

'It is more for my convenience than yours. No doubt you will be fine when you have a drink, but for now, this is quicker.'

Serlaith was sick of arguing with him today. She merely grumbled in response, trying not to let the past day's events get to her.

As they passed the through the town square, another assassin greeted them.

'Altair! You've returned!'

'Rauf,' Altair nodded.

'It is good to see you unharmed. As for this one… Is she okay?'

'I am fine. He insisted on carrying me!'

Rauf gave a quiet laugh, 'Anything to have woman, eh, Altair?

Altair ignored his comment , 'Is the master in his tower?'

'Yes, yes. Buried in his books as always. No doubt he expects you.'

'My thanks, Brother.'

'Safety and peace, Altair.'

'On you as well.'

Altair made his way up the sloped, steeped path. As he tried to enter the fortress, Abbas approached him.

'Ah. He returns at last. With a woman in his arms, no doubt.'

Serlaith glared at him.

'Abbas,' he greeted with distaste.

'Where are the others? Did you ride ahead hoping to be the first one

back? I know you are loathe to share the glory.'

Silence fell between them. Serlaith stirred slightly. Abbas broke the silence, 'Silence is just another form of assent.'

'Have you nothing better to do?'

'I bring word from the master. He waits for you in the library. Best hurry. No doubt you're eager to put your tongue to his boot.'

'Another word and I'll put my blade to your throat.'

'There'll be plenty of time for that later, _brother,_' he mocked.

Altair continued on. He carried Serlaith half way up the staircase, before setting her on her feet, 'You must walk from here. He will question us on our mission.'

'You did not have to carry me, the cut isn't deep. I must've just twisted my ankle a little.'

Altair looked at her, and she could see those unique, golden eyes. He put her down. To prove her point, Serlaith jumped, not even wincing now, 'See? I just needed rest. I am fine!'

Altair just 'humphed' and they continued much quicker up the grand stair case.

As they reached the top, Al Mualim was looking out the large window, his hands clasped behind his back. He faced them as he heard them approaching.

'Altair. Serlaith.'

'Master,' Altair spoke. Serlaith remained quiet.

'Come forward. Tell me of your mission. I trust you have recovered the Templar's treasure.'

'There was some trouble, Master. Robert de Sable was not alone.'

'When does our work ever go as expected? It's our ability to adapt that makes us who we are.'

'This time it was not enough…' Altair trailed off.

Al Mualim raised an eyebrow in question, 'What do you mean?

'I have failed you…'

'The treasure?'

'Lost to us.'

'And Robert?'

'Escaped.'

'I send you, my best man, to complete a mission more important than any that has come before. And you return to me with nothing but apologies and excuses!' Al Mualim shouted at Altair. Serlaith kept her gaze down.

'I did-'

'Do not speak! Not another word! This is not what I expected. We'll need to mount another force.'

'I swear to you I'll find him. I'll go and-'

Al Mualim cut him off once more, 'No! You'll do nothing! You've done enough! Where are Malik and Kadar?'

'Dead,' Serlaith dared to look up. It pained her to hear it.

'No! Not dead!' Serlaith looked toward the voice

'Malik!' Serlaith exclaimed, rushing over to him. She covered her mouth with her hand at the sight of his arm.

'I still live at least!'

'And your brother?'

'Gone. Because of you!' He pointed at Altair with his good arm, blame in his eyes. But just as quick they turned to Serlaith, 'And you! Get away from me!' he growled. Serlaith stared at him, mouth open.

'Get away!' Serlaith stepped back quickly, tears welling again at the loss of Kadar, and now Malik as her friend.

'Robert threw us from the room! There was no way back, nothing we could do.'

'Because you would not heed my warning! All of this could have been avoided! And my brother... my brother would still be alive! And Serlaith, I believe then that there 'was nothing you could do' either!? Altair, your arrogance nearly cost us victory today!' he turned back again to Altair.

' "Nearly"?' Altair questioned, speaking once more

'I brought what your favourite failed to find. Here, take it.'

Another assassin entered, carrying the treasure.

'Though it seems I have returned with more than just their treasure…'

Once more, another assassin entered,'Master! We are under attack! Robert de Sable lays siege to Masyaf's village!

'So he seeks a battle! Very well, I'll not deny him. Go, inform the others. The fortress must be prepared. As for you, Altair, our discussion will have to wait. You must make for the village. Destroy these invaders. Drive them from our home!' Al Mualim glanced to Serlaith, before he turned around, dismissing them.

Altair bowed his head, 'It will be done.' Altair left, and Serlaith followed. She was happy that Malik was alive, but now he hated her. He blamed her. Tears fell again, but she quickly wiped them away. She simply followed Altair silently, as they made their way outside to see what was to be done about the attack.

* * *

**I hate this chapter. But oh well. I may re edit later.**

**Sorry for an inaccurices and mistakes.  
**

**I know at the point in the temple whe they are thrown out, they are both being childish, but I need them to be, so they mature in time, at this point especially Altair, learning from his mistakes. I always wanted to show a bit how Serlaith likes to be independant, and though she doesn't deal much with the fact Altair was a 'murderer' from the last chapter, she is quite forgiving. But she bottles everything up until one day...Kaboom, aha. Don't worry, in later chapters she will be dealing with Altair's need to kill.  
**

**Ps. OMG ASSASSIN'S CREED III! I cannot believe it just...No words. The plot twists are just... GO PLAY IT! ALL OF YOU! SO I CAN TALK ABOUT IT!  
**

**R&R please.  
**

**~FatherOnceSpokeOfAnAngel  
**


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